Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop
by SlinkyT
Summary: I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much   All of the while I never knew, I think that possibly, maybe, I'm falling for you.
1. It's On Me

AN: So, this is my attempt at writing a Cherry story, because I've fallen in love with this pairing, it's practically my OTP. (: So, please review if you like it, and I'll write more Cherry stuff. :D The time is set after Rachel and Finn broke up during the top half of season 2. (: Then it goes through the rest of the season as the chapters develop. (:

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><p>It was December of Rachel's junior year, an important time for her. She should be focusing on college choices and exams, but all she could think about was her recent problems with Finn, though they hadn't broken up yet, she felt like he was at his breaking point. She was walking the streets past small shops and restaurants that were closed due to the time, with a pea coat wrapped around her small frame and earmuffs on her head. Her nose was now red due to the cold and she felt a fleck of wetness hit her cheek. She looked around in confusion and noticed the small flurries of snow falling around her.<p>

She continued to walk at her current pace, not minding the flakes until they began to fall harder around her, already sticking to the ground. She knew she wouldn't be able to make it to her house in time before this turned into a full on blizzard, so maybe she was exaggerating but she wanted out of the snow. She looked around the area she was in for a store, or at this point anything, that hadn't closed for the night. After scanning her surroundings she noticed a small coffee shop with a flashing sign that read, "Open." She started walking towards it but before she could make it a few steps it seemed like the sky had opened, dropping it's entire supply of snow. Her walked turned into a light jog as she reached the door of the small café.

She pulled the door open quickly and then pushed it closed behind her before breathing a sigh of relief. She looked around the quaint place and noticed she was the only person there except for the dark haired barista who seemed to not notice her entrance, his back being turned to the door. She hesitantly walked up to the counter, pulling her gloves off as she reached the register, the man behind the counter not responding to her actions.

"Excuse me," she said softly, her voice not filled with confidence like it usually was, almost not sounding like herself.

"What can I help you with?" He said as he turned around a bowl from a blender in hand, a rag in the other wiping it clean. He saw her and looked her up and down before his face contorted in confusion. "Rachel?" he said and stopped cleaning the bowl.

"Mike?" She questioned and leaned forward to look at his face closer, past the shadows of the cap he had to wear as part of his uniform, recognizing the Asian boy from Glee club. "Um, hey," she said sort of surprised to see him.

"Hey," he said turning around to set the bowl in the sink behind him. He grabbed a paper towel and threw the rag in hand over his shoulder and turned back to her while drying his hands off. "What are you doing out with this going on?" He nodded towards the front window of the coffee shop, referring to the torrential snowstorm outside. She noticed exactly how hard it was snowing and could barely see the sidewalk, the snow having built up on the ground already. This made her realize how grateful she was having found this place open.

She hesitated slightly at his question. She was actually out buying Finn's Christmas present, having already shopped for everybody else. She knew she didn't have to actually get him anything so she just went to pick out some stationary for her idea and get it wrapped. Despite her perfectionist exterior, she was actually horrendous at wrapping presents. Telling Mike this would probably raise some questions, so she just chose a broad answer.

"Christmas shopping," she said succinctly and he nodded in understanding, her being glad that he didn't pry as to why exactly she didn't have any bags. He tossed the paper towel off into a waste basket.

"Well, now that you're here, what can I get you?" He said with a small smile. This was the first time she'd actually talked to Mike without the rest of the Glee club around, or anybody else for that matter. Had she really ever had a conversation with him? She couldn't remember when she had.

"A hot chocolate would be nice," she said returning his smile, pushing her gloves into the pocket of her jacket. He nodded and then turned back to a machine, pressing a few buttons and placing a cup in the required spot. He hopped up on to a bare spot on the counter, the area around the machine having been cleaned off due to the lack of customers at this time. While the machine made a few sputtering noises she pulled her jacket off revealing a form fitting sweater with a horse on the front and a plaid skirt with tights. She pulled her earmuffs off, as well, laying both items on the counter in front of her, the temperature in the café rather comfortable. She walked around the counter confidently, noticing a spot on the other side of the machine open. She hopped up placing her hands on the edge, her feet swinging slightly as Mike grabbed a sleeve and top for the hot chocolate without moving off the counter. He handed it over to her.

"One hot chocolate," he said, not seeming to mind her boldness in coming behind the counter. He actually enjoyed it seeing as the last customer he had left about an hour and a half ago. She grabbed the hot chocolate eagerly and put it to her lips to take a sip. He realized her mistake right away and reached his hand out to stop her before she drank, but he was a little late. The scolding hot liquid burned her tongue causing her to squeal slightly as she pulled the cup away from her mouth.

"Ow, that hurt!" She said as if she was astonished that the hot chocolate had burned her. He laughed at her shock and stood up walking over to a container with ice in it. He grabbed a cup, scooped some ice into and walked back over and stood across from her, handing her the cup. She took it out of his hand, sitting the hotter one down as he leaned back against the opposite counter. She pulled a piece of ice out of the cup and stuck her tongue out and held the piece there.

"Thanks," she said with her tongue still out, sounding completely ridiculous. He laughed at her sitting there trying to ease her pain, it wasn't funny she was in pain, but funny he was seeing her like this. She laughed with him before he responded.

"No problem," he said with a bit of arrogance in his voice, as if he had accomplished something in walking over and getting her ice. "Better?" He said after a moment, raising his eyebrows in questioning.

She nodded and pulled the ice off of her tongue. "I guess you see this a lot, huh?" She said referring to her burnt tongue, he did work in a coffee shop, she was sure there were other people who didn't think before taking a sip of a hot drink.

"Not as often as you'd think," he said with a smile. "I just didn't think my regular warning of, "Be careful, it's hot" was necessary." It was required by him during business hours, like every statement he made was, he stuck to a script when he worked here. She rolled her eyes at him.

"I'll have you know, I knew it was hot," she said and crossed her arms in front of her chest with a small amount of anger. He laughed at her.

"So, then you decided to drink it all at once anyway," he moved to grab the cup of ice she was done with, poured the ice in the sink and then walked to throw away the cup. She looked out the window to see the snow had slowed down enough to where she was comfortable walking, and let out a small humph and hopped off the counter, grabbing her hot chocolate.

"I should be going," she said with an attitude and began to walk around to grab her jacket and earmuffs. He laughed at her pouting and tossed the cup in the trash.

"I guess I'll be seeing you in Glee club," he said now back behind the register, arms crossed on the counter, looking up at her. She nodded, pulled her jacket on and put her earmuffs around her neck. She put on her gloves as well and then picked up her hot chocolate, which had cooled down some. She turned to walk out the door only to be stopped by him saying something.

"Hope you enjoy your drink," he said smiling as she turned back around to face him. She smiled at him despite her being slightly annoyed.

"Thank you, Mike." She replied and thensuddenly realized something she hadn't thought about and began digging through her pockets, frantically. "Oh! I forgot to pay you," she said making her way back to the counter.

"It's on me," he said and pulled his wallet out of his jeans pocket. He had pulled out a 5, opened the register, and put it in before she had time to respond. She sighed and stopped looking through her pockets.

"Bye, Mike," she said and turned to leave again, pulling her earmuffs up to their right place on her head.

"Bye, Rachel," he smiled as she left, toting the hot chocolate and walking on the now snow covered ground. She gave one last look through the window and waved to him, to which he returned the wave, and she continued to walk to her house. He then felt bad for letting her walk in the snow that could get worse any minute. She was his friend, and he wasn't completely heartless. He hopped over the counter, something he learned with practice, and ran to the door and walked outside into the snow, only covered by his smock and a short sleeved white shirt.

"Hey, Rachel?" he said causing her to turn around in shock. She raised an eyebrow at him and then walked over to where she was only standing a short distance away.

"Yes?" she questioned and looked at him as if he'd just interrupted some important event. The snow was falling and sticking to his hair and she wanted to reach up and brush it off as it was beginning to look like dandruff and grossed her out. She pushed the thought away as he began to talk.

"Umm, do you need a ride home?" He said one hand scratching the back of his head, the other jutting his thumb toward his car. She was kind of taken back by his offer, most people would have just let her walk home in the slush.

"That would be great, thank you," She said still gripping her hot chocolate to try and keep her already freezing hands warm.

"No problem, let me just close up." He said and turned to walk back inside the coffee shop, leaving her outside waiting. He moved around quickly, pulling the light on the open sign, putting the chairs up on the few tables that were scattered throughout, grabbing his coat from behind the counter and pulling it on as he walked back outside to her.

"We're good to go," he said and walked to his car, opening the door for her, and closing it as she got in and buckled her seatbelt. He walked around to his door, getting in, starting the car, and putting the heat on full blast. Then, he pulled away from the coffee shop, who knew that one day he would appreciate that place much more than he did now.

"_I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much All of the while I never knew"_


	2. To A Better Year

Ooc: So, unlike my other stories where I just let them fade, I'm /really/ dedicated to this one, so I may end up finished this one before I update my other stories, just a heads up. (: Okay, here's the second chapter! :D Also, if you notice grammar things, or stuff that just doesn't make sense, please tell me. It's now 1:30 here, but I felt like I needed to post his tonight. (: Thank you so much for giving my story a chance. (:

ashley1985: Tina and Mike are still together, that actually, if my plans turn out right, becomes a big part of developing Mike and Rachel's friendship. Because, that's all they are, is friends. (: For now at least. (:

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><p>Music blaring. Bodies dancing. Drinks pouring. People making out. These statements pretty much summed up the party that Rachel was entering at Puck's home. It was New Year's Eve. Her plan to surprise Finn with a present at Christmas went horribly, although she didn't celebrate the holiday herself she knew it was important to him, but he had rejected her completely. Leaving her to belt her gift out to an empty auditorium. Her attempt at participating in Christmas practices, such as getting a Christmas tree with him, also ended terribly, him officially ending their relationship.<p>

These thoughts were flooding her mind as she entered the house with a wave of Puck's hand, her taking her hat and gloves off in turn. She glanced around the room, the bass of the music pounding in her ears as she did so. It was mostly people she recognized, as well as some football guys and Cheerios that she didn't.

Her eyes fell on the tall boy who had broken her heart just a short time prior to this night, him dancing next to a slender Latina girl. She felt her blood boil and she wanted to just tear her eyes away from their extremely close bodies, but it was like a car accident. You want to look away, but you can't. She felt her jacket being tugged off by an unusually polite Puck, who then took it and hung it on a rack right by the door. She stood in her usual attire of a sweater and skirt, and snapped back to reality as he pushed a bottle into her hand. She rolled her eyes at him.

"It's not going to be that easy," she said putting her hand out with the bottle, gesturing for him to take it back. He chuckled lightly at her naivety of the situation. They were at a party. On New Year's Eve. The least she could do was have one wine cooler.

"You need to relax, Berry," he said and handed the wine cooler to a passing girl in a Cheerio uniform. He was just trying to be a good friend, all he'd tried to do since the incident that had unintentionally caused Rachel and Finn's breakup. He'd actually broke it off because he didn't want to betray his friend. Again. Apparently that wasn't good enough. The least he could do was try.

"I am relaxed," she said and walked past him, not wanting to receive any further commentary on her behavior. Not sure where she was headed, she walked past people still dancing, her senses overwhelmed by the sound of the music. The sight of dancing teens. The smell of alcohol prominent in the air. The feel of her hands becoming clammy, herself becoming very uncomfortable in this space. She looked around the crowded room and saw a staircase that looked as if it led up to a very different environment. She looked around carefully as she made her way towards the stairs, trying to make sure nobody noticed her movements.

She snuck to the base of the steps, taking small strides, trying not to rush and seem suspicious. She lifted her foot up, barely enough to reach the first step and the second her toe touched the ground, she turned and ran up the stairs quickly, holding on to the railing for support as her flats thudded on the carpet.

She reached the top of the stairs, taking in the new environment. Of the times she'd been here, she really hadn't had a chance to see much of this house, she took in the hallway, a couple doors on either side. She noticed that the party music had been dulled, only slightly, due to her distance from the source. She walked to a door, picking at random, and turned the knob.

It wasn't until it was too late that she heard noises from the other side of the door. Her eyes widened in shock as she heard a deep moan and she took in the scene of two shirtless teens laying on a bed, surrounded by a tousled piled of sheets. She quickly closed the door and walked across the hall to a different door, still in a state of shock. She pressed her ear to the door this time, listening for anything. A moan, rustling clothes, even just the sound of a pin dropping.

She heard nothing so she hesitantly opened the door, calming as she noticed nobody else in the room. She walked around the room hesitantly, looking around at the practically bare walls, this had to just be a guest room. There was no personality in any of these things. She lay down on the bed and leaned back, sighing simultaneously.

She really shouldn't have come tonight, she knew she wouldn't have any fun at all, but she didn't want to hurt Noah's feelings. But, would he really care if she didn't show up? Probably not, maybe she was just making excuses to see Finne. The mental image of him and Santana dancing against each other flashed into her mind. She couldn't get it out, it was like an instant replay from some sports channel, and this clip happened to be the game winning tackle. She wanted to still be with Finn, so bad, but he wouldn't forgive her.

She decided to try and distract herself by getting up and walking over to the window which looked over the front of the house. She stood for a moment before she felt a cold breeze. What? She noticed the window was cracked slightly and she pushed it open more, the cold completely enveloping her. She heard a scraping noise, as if somebody was walking on the roof. Wait was somebody walking on the roof? She heard the noise get closer before she saw the feet of the person approaching and then looked up to see the person as a whole.

"Mike?" She said laughing at herself, releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "You scared me," she said to his confused face. He was confused because, well, obviously it was Mike, why was she asking? He could understand the confusion with the barista uniform on, but now he looked as he did every day in Glee club.

"Sorry?" He said more as a question, wondering if that was the right response to that comment.

"No, no it's fine," She said shaking her head. "But, what are you doing out there?" She said pointing to the roof he was now standing on, where he could fall backwards at any moment.

"Oh, Tina couldn't make it tonight, her parents have a weird New Year's tradition" he said coming up with some random excuse. Truth was they were fighting, they just knew how to hide it well and she didn't want to go to the party, but he wanted to enjoy himself. If he went, she wouldn't, and he decided he wanted to actually have fun for once. "And well, since I was by myself, I came out here. I thought this would be the best spot to see fireworks." He shrugged casually. Rachel stuck her arm out the window, gesturing for him to move closer and grab her hand.

"What?" he said dumbly, taking a step forward anyway.

"I'm coming out there," she said seriously, hand still outreached.

"Don't you need to get back to-oh," he said and looked down, almost forgetting Rachel and Finn's dramatic break-up. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay," she replied using her, as she would say, amazing acting abilities to plaster a fake smile on her face. He nodded and reached forward to help her get through the window.

When she finally ended up on the roof she smoothed down her skirt and stood up confidently. Without words they walked over to where Mike had a thermos and paper cups sitting on the shingles. It was pretty chilly and they were both feeling the cold all the way to their bones, but neither had a jacket or blanket of any sort. Mike sat down and Rachel followed suit, a little ways away from him.

"Want some hot chocolate?" He said picking up the thermos and one of the small paper cups. She nodded with a smile. It only took him a short moment to spin the cap off and pour her a cup and then pour himself one. She took it from him, as she started to shiver and held it firmly, her hands warming slightly. Before taking a sip she blew on the steaming drink for a few moments. Then she heard him laughing, she looked over to see him with a smile looking at her.

"What?" She said genuinely alarmed and sat up straight, trying to portray her inner confidence.

"I guess you learned your lesson, huh?" He said and raised his cup a little to refer to the drink in her hand. She looked at her drink and then realized her actions. She didn't just immediately drink it this time, despite who cold she was, she waited and blew on it so she wouldn't burn her tongue again. She laughed softly.

"Yeah, I guess I did," she said smiling and then took a small sip of her drink. Mike looked out at the sky and fireworks started shooting off, lighting up the entire night. He checked his watch, he knew they started a little bit before midnight so the finale would be right on time.

"5 minutes until New Year's." He said still looking at the sky. She nodded to say she had heard him. For a minutes they just sat watching the fireworks, having a perfect view on the roof. Then, something came to Mike's mind.

"What's your resolution?" he said continuing to watch the colors light the sky. She sat looking at her hot chocolate, not sure how to reply. She thought of Finn, how if he were to come up on this roof right this second and ask her out again, despite what he had done to her, she would say yes. She felt so powerless when it came to Finn, like she would always go back. And that's when she came up with her resolution.

"To not give in as easily" she said softly and then coughed trying to regain composure. "What's yours?" She said her assurance back in her voice and took a sip of her drink. Mike didn't know what to say. He thought of Tina, and how even though they had their fights, he still loved her, or at least he thought he did. But, he was tired of trying to hard to maintain a perfect relationship exterior. How they had troubles that nobody knew about and he just wanted it over. It almost wasn't worth fighting for. He just wanted-

"To give up," he said with resignation in his voice and took a deep breath. Maybe he would, or maybe he'd keep fighting for what he thought was right. He checked his watch once more, surprised at the time that had passed.

"30 seconds," he said and all they could hear was the sound of fireworks popping repeatedly after each other. They both realized this New Year's they would be lonely, nobody to hug and kiss when they counted down. Mike looked over at Rachel, who's expression was now sad.

"To a better year," he said raising his cup like he was making a toast. She smiled and copied his actions.

"To a better year," she repeated and they both indulged in long soothing drinks as the fireworks went on a frenzy filling the void of the sky similar to the affect of somebody splattering paint on a canvas. At that moment they both hoped next New Year's they wouldn't be sitting by themselves.

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><p>AN: What did you think? Reviews are greatly appreciated because they make me want to write more..thank you. (:<p> 


	3. Getting to Know You

AN: So, I'm whipping out these chapters pretty fast if I do say so myself. (: I would really enjoy it if you guys would leave some reviews for me, please. (: They encourage me SO much! So, I hate to sound needy, but if it's not too much to ask, I would really enjoy a total 15 reviews before I post the next chapter. (: I would love you guys forever! :D Well, here it goes. (:

P.S. Please if you read it, review. I take constructive criticism, hate, whatever, I just like reviews. :)

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><p>Mike walked into work that day with, what he felt like was, an unmovable chip on his shoulder. It was a few days past Valentine's Day, a day which ironically was one of the worst he'd had in a long time. Tina and him were fighting again, and it was worse than before. He walked behind the counter and pulled on his apron and cap, his mandatory uniform. The coffee shop was deserted, nobody else there this early as he went through the frustrated motions of getting this place presentable for customers. Since he worked Saturdays he was now working even earlier hours, having gained the trust of the own and earned the coveted responsibility of opening it up on the weekends. He finished his required duties and made himself a cup of the plain coffee, trying to use the bitterness and caffeine to wake himself up. If it weren't for his uniform you would see today Mike was disheveled. You would see his ruffled hair, which he didn't bother to fix, and his tired eyes past the shadows cast from the brim of his hat. He'd spent too much time tossing and turning in his bead, trying to make the right decision, he'd almost gotten no sleep the night before. He took a small sip of the coffee, letting it hit the back of his throat soothingly and he relaxed into the chair he'd chosen to sit in. He was trying to clear his mind, his thoughts, his emotions, unsuccessfully, when he heard the familiar sound of the door opening. He stood up and turned, seeing a familiar figure standing at the doorway. He smiled fakely and put on his best employee face.<p>

"Hey, Rachel, what brings you here?" He said and walked back behind the counter, pouring out his unfinished drink. She walked up to the counter and pulled a small wallet out of her purse and looked up to the menu hanging on the wall.

"Well, the hot chocolate wasn't half bad last time," she said with a grin. Of course, it had been a while since she'd seen him outside of school. She'd been in the area, and didn't mind that she actually knew somebody who worked here. She'd actually come by quite a few times after their New Year's encounter, hoping to run into him, but to no avail. She'd finally picked the right time and was glad to be able to talk to him again. He nodded in response to her comment.

"That's kind of out of season now, so what else can I get you?" He said turning to pull a cup off the stack. She shrugged and leaned forward to hold the edge of the counter and look at him.

"What's good?" He turned to look at the menu.

"I personally like the Caramel Macchiato," he said pointing to the picture hanging on the wall menu and turning to look at her. She nodded.

"Sounds great," she grinned, laid a five on the counter and walked over to a near table and sat, folding her hands in front of her on the table, enjoying the quant scenario. He had pulled a second cup and began making himself an identical drink, preferring the sweet coolness of this one over his earlier choice. He could have done this in his sleep, so he finished in no time. He quickly opened the register, slipping her five in and shoving her change in a pocket to hand to her. He grabbed both of the cups and walked over to her, straws in hand as well. He sat one in front of her along with one of the straws. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the change and offered it to her.

"Just keep it," She said with a smile. He nodded as thanks.

"Mind if I join you?" He said putting the money back in his pocket and raising his cup in a movement similar to his on New Year's, which she remembered fondly.

"Not at all," she said and gestured to the chair across from her. She put the straw into her drink and carefully took a small sip. "This is really good," she smiled. He copied her action and it was accompanied with a small amount of laughter.

"Yeah," his face then turned serious, it getting hard for him to keep up this charade, he took a long indulgent taste of his own drink. Rachel, being very observant, noticed the flash of emotion across his face. She couldn't place what it was though. Anger? Pain? Frustration?

"Mike," She said, causing him to look up at her. "Are you okay?" She asked, her expression full of concern. She recognized the pain in his eyes before he had time to mask his emotions again. He rolled his eyes like she was insane for suggestion he was anything but okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied and returned the straw to his lips, occupying his mouth so he didn't have to say anything else. Rachel reached her hand across the table and laid it on top of his sympathetically. She looked at him seriously, trying to meet his shifty gaze.

"You can tell me the truth, Mike," to which he raised an eyebrow. Could he really trust Rachel? He didn't think he could, they barely talked, but he felt bad for not telling her anything when something was obviously wrong. He shrugged and pulled his hand away from hers.

"It's nothing, just some stuff with me and Tina," he said nonchalantly. He mouth formed a perfect "o" of shock and her hand flew to her chest as she asked him a question.

"Oh no, you two didn't break up did you?" She genuinely thought Tina and Mike were an adorable couple, a stable one. She would have no hope in healthy relationship if the, supposedly, perfect one couldn't last. He thoughts wandered and her hand unknowingly played with the gold star charm hanging simply around her neck.

He scoffed at her words. He wished it was that easy, that Tina had just let him go. Every time he says something about taking a break she gets hysterical, crying similar to the way she did in Glee club a few days prior. He sometimes wished he wasn't as attached to her, so it would be easier to leave her when she broke down like that.

"It's just little fights, you know," and the words eased her worry. Her hand stayed at her chest though, still clutching her necklace. He may have toned down their troubles a little bit for Rachel, well, maybe a lot, but he really didn't want to tell her the whole story.

"Fighting is a part of a healthy relationship," she stated matter-of-factly. "Nobody's perfect. Finn and I used to fight all the time." She regretted saying the words as soon as they came out. She had a hard time forgetting Finn her weren't a couple, she'd become so accustomed to their status, even though they'd been apart for months.

"Look how that turned," he grumbled harshly. She should have expected that, but it still stung. She felt tears threatening to fall on to her cheeks and she blinked them away. Mike noticed her response and looked at her, wanting to take back his words.

"Oh, god, Rachel, I'm sorry," He said and scoot his chair around the table to where they were closer, knees touching. "Please don't cry," he said softer, trying to comfort her. It was now she realized Mike was really a sweetheart. She looked at him with a sad smile.

"It's fine," she shook her head and looked at her cup, her finger tracing the brim. "Sometimes, it's just hard for me to accept that we aren't a couple," she said quietly, hating to admit that to somebody other than herself. He felt a pain in his chest and realized he didn't like seeing her like this.

"You deserve better than him," he said and looked at her, trying to say anything to make her feel better. She looked at him, a hint of desperation on her face, wondering if he was serious.

"Really?" She whispered, her hand had stopped moving over her cup. He got awkward fast, and scoot his chair away from her and tried to make it like his words were no big deal.

"Um, yeah, nobody deserves to be hurt by the same person again and again." He said coming up with an explanation for his random blurt.

"Thanks," she said looking down again.

Then, he realized the truth in his statement. Nobody deserved to be hurt over and over, not even himself. He didn't have to be hurt by Tina every time she cried for him not to go. His mind moved to his New Year's resolution and then processed Rachel's, as well. He finally knew what it was about.

"To not give in as easily," he mumbled to himself. The words hit him like a ton of bricks. That's what Rachel needed to do. Is that what he needed to do with Tina? Just not give in and turn around the next time she asked for him to come back? Would that be right? He was zoned out and her words snapped him back to reality.

"What?" Rachel asked, leaning forward to attempt to hear him.

"Just, your resolution. To not give in as easily?" He looked at her with a genuine smile. "I think you should stick to it." She nodded.

"Yeah, I think I should too." She then remembered his resolution. It popped into her mind instantly and then, she didn't know how she knew, but she knew it was about Tina and him. How he'd had enough. "To give up," she said simply and they shared a meaningful moment of eye contact. She didn't realize the words rang true for her to until this exact moment. Did she just have to give up hope on being with Finn? Because he always picked something over her, so was he even worth it? Would that solve her problems? He knew exactly what she was saying without any more exchange of words.

"We should do this again," She said breaking the eye contact to look down at her cup, in an attempt lighten the mood. He laughed and took another drink.

"Sure, maybe when I'm not on the clock," he said nodding towards to the open register that was only that way because he wasn't standing there. She followed his nod and then looked back to him.

"Yeah, that sounds nice," She said happiness filling her instead of the sad feeling from earlier.

"And not in a few months," he said teasing at how long it had been since they'd seen each other outside of school, just the two of them. Not really sure why he cared. "And even though I really enjoy this place," he said gesturing to the café. "Maybe we could go to the Lima Bean?" He said raising an eyebrow playfully at her. She laughed at his expression and then replied.

"Of course," she beamed.

"Great," he replied with a grin just as wide.

There they sat bantering and chatting about basically pointless things. She'd mention a musical and he'd reciprocate with a favorite band of his. He learned her favorite color was red and, in turn, she learned his was green. He also discovered other things about her. Like, no matter how many times she went on stage she still got nervous. That her Dads made it a habit to go on a date night every Friday. That, although he wouldn't see it, her room was decorated with musical posters, her favorites: Funny Girl, Wicked, and Les Mis, to be exact.

She also found out more about Mike that she never thought she would know. That Michael Jackson was one of his inspirations, which she now noticed in his dance moves. That the two musicals he had seen were based off of bands he liked, Across the Universe and American Idiot. That, even though he enjoyed Asian Camp and helping the kids, which led to her finding out he was really good with kids, he thought it was pretty ridiculous how much time they spent engulfed in technology.

He finally had to leave the discussion as another customer walked in, becoming his main priority. He couldn't tell you how long they sat and talked, but no matter the time he actually enjoyed talking to Rachel, she wasn't anything like people said she was, at least not to him. As she left, they both promised to meet again in within the week, and he was glad. His day was sort of brighter having started off with Rachel. He understood her a lot better today, and she understood him, too. He thought this could be the beginning of a good friendship.

"_No one understands me quite like you do, through all of the shadowy corners of me" _


	4. You Know That, Right?

AN: Here you go, the next chapter! I hope you like it. After this I have 6, maybe 7, more chapters planned out, it ending after Nationals some time. (: So…please favorite and review! I can't say it enough REVIEW, REVIEW, because I enjoy those so much. (: Thanks for the reviews I /did/ get although I would enjoy more. (: Well, I don't have much to say about this chapter sooo… here it is. (:

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><p>Mike and Rachel had met for coffee two other times within the next week, meeting up after school and just hanging out. Once at The Lima Bean and then again at the café where Mike worked. Because, Rachel complained the Caramel Macchiato "wasn't as sweet" to which he smugly replied that it was "probably because I didn't make it."<p>

Mike was working, like he always did in his spare time, trying to save up for his own car. He was cleaning out a machine before he got off and his back was to the door, not paying attention. He heard the familiar sound of it opening behind him and he continued to work as the sound of heels approached the counter, thinking it was just a customer he would have to attend to. Then, he could tell they were walking behind the counter and he just assumed it was the person taking over his shift. All of a sudden his vision was dark and the appliance he was holding dropped into the sink with a clang.

"What the h-" he said trying to turn around, the person's hands over his eyes stopping him. His hands flew up to grab the small wrists and his words were cut off by a short-

"Shh!" He was highly confused at this point as he realized whoever it was, was shorter than him. He could tell by the wrists that it was a girl, and could feel her arms on his shoulders, her hands covering his eyes. His hands traveled behind him up her arms and, reached her shoulders which were uncovered except for a thin strap. He could feel her hair on her shoulders and was surprised she wasn't saying anything. They then moved up to her face, feeling her face scrunch up as his hands moved up past her eyes. He then reached the top of her head and he grinned, a certain factoring giving away who it was instantly.

"Rachel?" He asked and she dropped her hands from his face. He turned to look at her and was immediately taken back by her appearance. She was wearing a spaghetti strap red dress with matching heels. Her hands were on her hips that were being flattered just right by the fabric and his eyes moved to the top of her head seeing the give away. A black headband matching the black belt around the middle of the dress.

"You cheated," she said, stamping her foot and pouting jokingly.

"You could have stopped me," he shrugged and grabbed some things out of counters, along with a cup and started making something. She pulled herself up on the counter and began talking.

"I could have," she began and then he recognized the tone of her voice change to that of somebody giving a lecture. "But, then I would have either have had to talk, and you would have easily recognized my voice, or I would have had to move my hand, giving you time to see me. And I didn't want to do either." She watched him doing something unknown to her for a second before saying, "What gave it away?"

"Headband," he said simply, turning and tapping the accessory on the top her head gently. By this time he had finished the drink and he reach over beside her to grab a straw, sticking it in the cup, and handing it to her confusion clearly etched on her face.

"What is this?" she said looking at the cup and then back to him.

"Caramel Macchiato. Extra whip. No chocolate." He said and grabbed a rag and began wiping down the counter around her. She smiled.

"You know my coffee order," she said happily and took a long satisfied sip of the drink, watching him do his job. He rolled his eyes and laughed, then stopped cleaning the counter and looked at her.

"One," he said holding up his thumb and she knew he was about to go on a long tangent, recognizing his usual form of attack. List. He continued, "Last time we were here you made me promise to make you one every time you stepped in that door," he said nodding off to the side. "I plan to keep that promise. Two," he said a finger joining his thumb. "We're friends," he said stating the obvious. "We have coffee together. Why shouldn't I know your coffee order?" And has she expected, he held up another finger. "Three, I'm a barista. I make coffee. And I remember my regulars," he finished, feeling accomplished and resumed his brainless business at hand.

"Touché," she said as she continued enjoying her drink. He finished up cleaning the counter, except where she sat, and tossed the rag inside the sink, leaving it for the next worker. He untied his apron, took his cap off, and bent down to put his uniform up, then realized her legs were hanging in the way. He lightly grabbed her ankle just to get her attention and nodded to the side, her moving over without him having to say another word. He shoved his uniform under the counter. In her actions she had created enough space for another person, so he hopped up on the counter beside her.

"Now to face the elephant in the room," he said seriously and heard her giggling. He looked over at her to see her covering her mouth to stifle the laughter.

"You're hair?" She asked teasingly and reached hand up to ruffle his hair, which was already extremely awry due to his hat. He frowned and attempted to pat it down some. He shook his head, trying to forget about it and focus on saying what he really wanted to.

"No," he said causing her laughter to stop and she looked down, already knowing what he was going to say. "Rach, why are you dressed like that?" She put on a fake grin and got down off the counter. She did a small turn making the dress rise slightly.

"You like?" She said putting her hands behind her back, waiting for his response.

He just looked at her for a minute. Noticing something was different, but just wasn't sure what. His eyes raked over her body and then fell on her exposed collar bone and he realized what it was. Her gold star necklace was missing, normally her hand was always up at it, moving it between her fingers. He looked back up to her face to see her blushing and standing awkwardly.

"You know I don't think Tina would appreciate you ogling over other girls," she said and moved to sit back on the counter beside him.

"No, I wasn't, I just, you look, Tina and I…we aren't..uhh..together." He said looking to the ground as he finished his awkward heap of words. She looked at him sadly and the hand not holding her cup moved to rest on his bicep.

"I'm so sorry, Mike." She said looking at his sad expression. He shrugged like it was no big deal and she dropped her hand from his arm. They sat in a strange silence and her sat up straight just looking around, his mind pondering on a conversation topic. She sighed and leaned her head over to rest on his shoulder.

"So, do you like this better than what I usually wear?" She said tugging at the bottom of her dress.

He pondered it for a second, she did look really pretty in that dress, but it just wasn't her. It was weird.

"No," he finally decided. "I mean, this is nice, but it's not you. You wear skirts and sweaters with animals on the front. And flats," he said letting his foot hit hers making her smile sadly.

"Well, that's the rest of the school, now." She said referring to her failed attempt at trying to start a trend. She had given Brittany money to say she got the style from Rachel, wasn't it obvious that the style was hhers? She'd worn the same kind of clothes since, as long as she could remember, and here Brittany was causing everybody to suddenly like it. So she changed.

"You're really going to let them do this to you?" He said looking down at her. She pulled away from him, surprised at what he was asking her. Like, she would let somebody do something to her.

"What?" She said looking at him as he shrugged casually.

"You're letting them change you," he said and she shook her head, to cut him off and stand up for herself. It was just easier for her to keep the spotlight if she stood out, and if she were to wear what she usually did than the focus wouldn't be on her. That was it.

"No, I-" and then it was his turn to interrupt her. He put his hand over her mouth and her eyes widened in shock. He did that because he knew it was the only way to get her to stop and just be able to listen, this was something he really wanted her to hear. He heard her mumbling against his hand and he looked at her like asking her if she was really going to try that now.

"Do you think you can just listen?" He said and she just nodded, not trying to say another word, wondering what was so important to him. He lowered his hand and she silently leaned her head back on his shoulder looking up at him, urging him to continue.

"You are Rachel Berry," he started and he could see her laughing. He couldn't help but smile and nudged his elbow against her. "Hey, stop," He said and then continued. "You're not Brittany Pierce, you're not Santana Lopez, and you're not Quinn Fabray," he said and she nodded. She already knew these things. She would never be Quinn, even though sometimes she wish she had it as easy as her. He waited for him to continue.

"So they're popular. Honestly, that doesn't make you any lower than them. You don't have to listen to what they say and you don't have to change what you wear to try and get attention. Because, you have something else to get people's attention." He was being extremely sweet right now, and she was so glad she had a friend like him to cheer her up when she didn't even have to say she was feeling bad. She waited for him to finish. "You've got a really awesome personality. And I happen to think you're the only person I know who can pull off those outfits," he said and laughed. She grinned and finally sat up, realizing he was done.

"You're a really great friend, you know that right?" She asked and she couldn't stop grinning, her cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

"I like to think so," he said teasing her.

"I think you're right about my clothes though," she leaned down to mess with her heels. "Plus, these heels really hurt. That's why I always wear flats, they're more practical." She continued and unbuckled one of her shoes, letting it drop to the floor. "Ouch, blisters," she said rubbing the back of her foot. She undid her other shoe, it falling to the ground with its match. "That feels so much better," she said laughing at herself. He looked behind them, out the front window of the small café and noticed there were no cars sitting out front.

"Do you have to walk home?" He said looking at her with concern. She looked like she was in pain and he didn't like her walking home barefoot, or with the heels on which, by the looks of it, would rub her feet raw before she got to her house. She nodded grimly and he thought for a short moment.

"If I had my car I would take you home, but I have to walk home too," he said and then it was like a light bulb went off over his head. She wasn't that heavy, and he liked to think he was pretty strong. Okay, so maybe he was stronger than the average junior in high school. "I have an idea," he said and scooted off the edge, his feet hitting the floor. Her house wasn't too far away, this would definitely work. He leaned down to pick her shoes up off the ground and handed them to her. At that moment, somebody else walked in. He thought he recognized them from some other place, but couldn't quite place who it was.

"You here to take over?" He asked and the girl that looked about a year younger than him, nodded furiously. "Okay, we were just leaving." He continued and she nodded once more. Rachel was still holding her heels, her empty cup having been tossed in the trash. He moved to where his back was to her and bent down just a little. "Hop on," he said with a smirk.

"What?" she asked laughing at his ridiculous stance.

"I said, hop on," He said and gestured to his back and she realized what he was doing. He was going to give her a piggy back ride home. Yeah, he was probably her best friend. The quiet girl had now walked around to behind the counter, waiting for them to move from in front of where she was supposed to get her uniform. Rachel then got on to his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms hooked behind her knees holding her up and he took a few steps, heading from out behind the counter when he heard the girl talk, directing her words at them.

"You're a cute couple," the girl he didn't know said casually and put her cap on. Mike turned around and looked at her like she was crazy. He shook his head.

"No, we're not, we don't," he said awkwardly trying to explain himself and then Rachel tried to help as well.

"Yeah, we're just friends," she said with a smile to the younger girl who just shrugged in response, not really caring.

"Umm, we're just going to go now," he said and walked towards the door, Rachel still holding on to him. Mike's mind was racing. A couple? They couldn't look like a couple, could they? They got outside the door and Rachel finally spoke after he was walking for a minute.

"That was weird," she said laughing trying to brush it off as nothing.

"Yeah, weird," he mumbled, spending the entire way carrying her home trying to forget the words the girl said to them.

"_I think that possibly, maybe, I'm falling for you."_


	5. Have I Ever Told You How Great You Are?

AN: So, here it is, the next chapter ALREADY. (: I know right? I just can't get enough of imagining this stuff actually happening. So, like always, you guys who leave me reviews are absolutely fantastic. (: You guys who read it and then never say anything about whether you liked it or not…well…you guys are awesome too. (: I don't really have much to say about this chapter except..ENJOY!

P.S. Only 5 more chapters! :D I don't want it to end! (:

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><p>Rachel had decided to throw a party, it was kind of strange for her but Mike was one of the first she invited, her saying she just "needed to have some fun". He showed up a little early to help her get the place ready and laughed at all the ridiculous things she had planned saying they were "so Rachel", her just responding with a hit on the arm or the chest. They were hanging out and talking as the rest of the Glee club started to arrive, most of the conversation consisting of him teasing her for wearing that green granny dress. The music began and when the drink tickets got thrown out the window, that's when things got crazy. After mingling and talking with other people Mike walked over to Rachel and sat down on the couch beside her. She was sitting Indian style wearing that ridiculous dress that he now thought looked hilariously adorable on her.<p>

"This is a great party, Rach," he said simply and threw his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head on his chest. He could tell by her actions and by the way she was talking that she was already tipsy.

"I know right?" She said with a proud grin and then after a short moment she brought her hand up to hit him on the chest like she was trying to get his attention although he was already looking at her. Her small hand barely phased him.

"Ohmygod, Mike, you should dance," she said and stood up abruptly, a plastic cup still in hand. He noticed she wobbled a little, getting dizzy from standing up so fast. He shook his head, he had a feeling he would look completely ridiculous dancing right now, and probably fall off the stage and hurt himself. He may have been buzzed, but he knew that much.

"Please?" She said and grabbed one of his hands trying to pull him off the couch but he let his entire body weight hold himself in place and she couldn't get him to budge. She dropped his hand and looked at him sadly.

"Just a little bit?" She said crossing her arms and pouting. He groaned and threw his head back dramatically against the back of the couch.

"Fine," he said dragging the word out, making it a complaint. She hopped up and down slightly, a bright smile breaking across her face. He got up and began trudging to the stage, trying to take as much time as possible.

"Mike!" She complained as she was following him to the stage, she put both of her hands on his shoulder blades and began pushing with all her might, trying to speed him up, but all that did was cause him to lean back against her. She said his name once more as she turned to press her back to his, trying to use her legs to push him instead. He laughed at her efforts and finally stood back up straight, walking the rest of the distance to the raised platform. She pouted for a short second before joining him and grabbing the microphone stand. She began carrying it off the stage and then like she had suddenly changer her mind, she ran back to center stage and sat it down with purpose.

"I am proud to announce," she paused like she was trying to add dramatic affect. "Mike Chang," she said clapping trying to get everybody else to clap too. There were a few claps across the room, everybody too busy talking to each other or drinking to notice what Rachel said. She carried the stand all the way off the stage this time and sat it down. Mike waited to start until she got to a couch and sat down in the same position she was in earlier.

Then, he began dancing, picking up in the middle of the song. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing, but his body was moving with the beat of the music, letting it take over him. He really couldn't process what song was playing, the only thing he did process was that everybody became silent. The music the only thing filling the void, and he danced with everybody watching. There was a certain pair of eyes that were watching him intently though, more focused past her drunken haze than the others.

Rachel's eyes were following his every moment. Her mouth was open a little in amazement as he did these complex moves despite the amount of alcohol he had consumed. He watched the way his legs and arms moved as if a waved passed over them and for a short moment she wondered if he actually had bones. She knew that was just her drunken self talking but her next thoughts, well, she couldn't really determine if they were irrational or not.

She wanted to dance with him. She wanted him to teach her to move in that way. To have his hand on the small of her back, holding her to him. Her hand in his as they would dance across the stage he was now on. She imagined them taking steps in sync, feeling him lead her through their movements together. She was so focused on his dance she didn't realize somebody had sat down beside her until they were reaching across to her.

"Here, let me get that drool for you," Mercedes said and wiped her chin. Rachel looked over at her astonished. Was it really that obvious that she was watching him so closely?

"What?" Rachel asked in fake confusion. "No, I wasn't, I was just, He's just, I couldn't help but," She felt a bright blush spread across her cheeks. She bit her lip to stop herself from saying anything else embarrassing. "He's really good," she mumbled quietly, looking down and gesturing to him still dancing.

"Girl," Mercedes said dramatically and moved over closer to her, a red plastic cup filled with some unknown liquid in one hand, her other hand now on Rachel's shoulder. She laughed for a short second and then regained her composure. "You are totally crushing," she said before bursting into another fit of giggles. Rachel just shook her head, denying it with all her of her being and then realized she needed to get him off stage so she would stop acting like this. She stood up on the couch cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Spin the bottle!" She said loudly, catching everybody's attention. "Who wants to play spin the bottle?" She said a second time and received woops and cheers from the rest of the partygoers. Mike had stopped dancing at her words and made his way into the circle, sitting down, Blaine on one side, Puck on the other. They all began to circle up and she reached for an empty bottle off the table and joined the her friends in the circle.

She took a seat on her knees, across the circle from the 3 boys who were sitting together. Sam was on one side of her and Kurt on the other. She sat the bottle in the middle and waited for somebody to reach forward and spin until she just got the guts. She reached forward and spun the bottle for the first time and the entire group was laughing and clapping, encouraging the bottle to stop.

Rachel followed it with her eyes, only not watching it when she looked up at Mike who was also looking it her. Their eye contact was strange, both of them trying to see what the other was thinking past their drunkenness, so they both looked back to the bottle, giving up. The bottle slowed and she looked at where it was stopping, her noticing the familiar canvas shoes of, who she thought to be her best friend, at the end. Just when her heart had started pounding like a bass drum the bottle turned slightly more, to where she looked up to see Blaine, more disappointed than she should have been. The party was cheering them on with their words and as Rachel leaned forward to place a kiss on his lips, her eyes flashed to Mike for a brief second, noticing an emotion she couldn't quite seem to place. The kiss was awkward to say the least, Blaine obviously not wanting to participate.

The game continued with random people kissing, Sam and Brittany, which actually got pretty heated, Tina and Finn, Artie and Mercedes, and other pairings of unusual sorts. After the game had run its course Rachel decided to pull out the karaoke and "get the real party started" as she said. Blaine joined her in their own rendition of "Don't You Want Me" with much applause from the rest of the guests. From there the party slowly died down, people leaving in cars with friends not at the party and a few staying the night at Rachel's. Not matter what they did after the party was over they could all easily say that was the best party of the year. At least until the next day.

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><p>"Good luck finding a song that does that," Mercedes said, her voice full of annoyance at Mr. Shue's comment. He really thought he would find a song about the negative effects of alcohol? Popular music didn't work that way, it was all glitz and glamour. They should have expected the next person that spoke up to speak some time today, but nobody expected the words that came out of her mouth.<p>

"Mr. Shue?" Rachel asked as she got up off the couch positioned on the stage and walked downstage towards him. Her mind was fogged but she at least knew what she was doing, what she decided to say, well that wasn't so much under her control.

"First of all that vest is very cute." She said and pointed at the monstrosity he had on as she warily walked over to Mike, not sure why she was attracted to stand by him.

"You are all kinds of awesome." Her hand reached for Mike's but she couldn't seem to get a firm grip so she slid her hand up his arm slightly to his bicep for a short second. Mike stood with a frozen face, his eyes not visible behind his dark sunglasses. He was trying his hardest not to let any emotion cross his face that he might be enjoying this because he knew that would only result in bad things. Really, he wasn't sure why he was, Rachel was just a really good friend of his, they'd grown to know so much about each other. But, he did have a hangover, so that was probably just it, he wasn't thinking correctly. She continued to speak.

"But second, maybe there's really no songs about the dangers of drinking because there's really none" And as she spoke her other hand moved up his back to rest on his other shoulder. His face still unchanging. His hand also moved around to her back, holding her there, but not being pushy, if she wanted to move she could.

She wasn't sure why she was doing it. She'd hugged Mike before, but this was weird for her, the way she was hanging on him. She was sure it was just because she had too much too drink, but that didn't mean she didn't really like this. Her words continued as all these thoughts moved through both of their heads.

"As long as you have a proper designated driver." As she spoke her last words, her hand moved to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and exposing some of his abs. Her fingers ran lightly over his skin as she spoke her next words. She looked up at him, cocking her slightly to the side, looking at him like she'd just had the greatest realization.

"Have I ever told you how great you are?" She said and he finally looked down at her, wishing he didn't have these stupid sunglasses on and she could see him. Before he could say anything in response he felt an arm pulling him away, one he didn't recognize right away, until he looked down to see his ex-girlfriend with a pained expression on her face. He held in his anger as Mr. Shue and the rest of the Glee club finished their conversation, him hanging around making sure Tina stayed as well. When he thought everybody was gone, he looked at her seriously.

"What was that about?" He asked her, gesturing to the spot downstage where he had stood with Rachel just moments earlier.

"What was what? Why did I pull you away? Because you two were all over each other. None of us wanted to see that." She said with a scoff, like seeing the two of them standing beside each other actually pained her. He looked at her like she was crazy, they were friends, why couldn't people get that through their heads?

"She was just standing beside me," he said shrugging. "I don't see what the big deal is." He'd sort of forgot a certain part of the situation until she mentioned it.

"She was practically undressing you!" Tina said louder, trying to get her point across. He shook his head like she was ridiculous.

"She's out of it, Tina, so is everybody else." He looked at her seriously, like that was the most obvious explanation for Rachel's actions, although Tina couldn't tell seeing as he kept his sunglasses on to hide his tired eyes.

"Whatever," She said giving up and storming past him. Mike groaned and walked over to the couch nearest to him and sat down, completely exhausted.

"Hey, Mike," he heard a familiar voice from across the stage say. He looked up with a small smile to the couch opposite him where Rachel was sitting, where she had been sitting during the entire conversation.

"Hey," he said and got up. He walked over to join her on the couch. He put his arm on the back of the couch naturally and she moved towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. She sighed softly and looked up to him.

"I hope you know you're my best friend." Rachel said easily. It was true. With the abundance of coffee dates they'd gone on, how much they texted, she couldn't think of a better way to describe what he was to her.

"I didn't know that," he said happily surprised. He was glad he'd been able to be there for her, have fun with her. "But, I'm glad I do now." He said returning her smile. She bit her lip, considering whether she wanted to bring up her completely forward actions or not. She decided she needed to.

"I'm sorry," She said, a blush spreading slowly across her face. She's heard the conversation with Tina and realized how ridiculous she most have looked. She also found herself easily embarrassed when she drank. "About what I did, back there." He laughed at her words.

"Rach, it's fine." He grinned, not only because he genuinely didn't care that she did it. He couldn't say it was completely horrible. But, also because he knew she was drunk and he couldn't take anything she did seriously. She nodded, appeased by his short statement.

"Okay, good." She said and she noticed him wince for some reason. When she spoke she was talking directly in his face and, no matter how rude it sounded, he was overwhelmed by the extreme smell of alcohol on her breath. He adjusted so he could reach into his back pocket to pull out a pack of gum. He opened it up and pulled out a stick gestured for her to take it without saying anything. She looked at him confusion clear in her expression.

"What?" She asked raising an eyebrow at him and she pushed off his chest, alarmed by his suggestion. She turned away from him and put her hand to her mouth, breathing into it, trying to smell her own breath even though she knew she wouldn't be able to. She turned back to him, desperation on her face as she asked her next question. "Is it really that bad?" He looked at her, knowing he would probably hurt her feelings in his next action, but he nodded. She gasped dramatically.

"That's supposed to be when you tell me it's not that bad! Jerk!" She exclaimed reaching forward to smack him on the arm and he laughed at her exaggerated actions more. He opened the piece in his hand and put it in his mouth instead. He shrugged.

"Hey, I need it to." She rolled her eyes and took a piece of gum for herself. She popped it in her mouth and began chewing, the fresh taste waking her up slightly, not like it was going to help her coherency.

"You're just lucky I like you," she said and stood up, put her hands on her hips and glared at him. He stood up and put both of his hands on her shoulders. He looked at her

"Hey, now. You can't be mad at me for being honest." She shook her head, still denying forgiveness. "Could I make it up to you with," he paused contemplating what would be the best bribe. "A dinner at Breadstix?" He asked looking at her hopefully, even though he knew she was just joking. She grinned.

"Sounds great." she said as she turned out of his hands. "See you later, Mike." She continued to walk off the stage not looking back at him. He rolled his eyes with a wide smile and followed after her.

"_I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down I want to come too."_


	6. That's What Friends are For

AN: Not much to say here except I really hope you guys are liking it. (: I've love the responses from everybody and can't wait to hear what you guys think about this. It sort of started out as a pointless fluff chapter, but I'm sure if you read it, you'll realize it definitely has more depth than that now. (: Anyways.

Enjoy!

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><p>Recently New Directions was having hard time being appreciated by the rest of the school. When didn't they? But for some reason Ms. Holliday suggested they should do some event so they could get recognized, "Night of Neglect" is what she called it. Mike didn't care for the idea that much, but he took it as a chance to show off his dancing, maybe impress some people. One of the few times he danced just by himself in front of people, while sober. Mike thought his part went well, at least once the audience was stuffed with taffy.<p>

He was now standing in Breadstix on this Friday night waiting for her, nervous for some reason he couldn't place. He'd walked the short distance to the popular restaurant due to the fact his car was in the shop. Now, he was just waiting for Hiram and Leroy to drop Rachel off, she'd decided to stay at the school for a little longer and socialize. He'd talked with her dads on several times when he picked up Rachel for school, or so they could go get coffee, which was a regular habit of theirs. They did that so much he once joked that they would "never sleep because of all the caffeine."

He stood inside the door patiently awaiting her arrival, still wearing the "costume" from his performance. A white button down shirt covered be a black vest, which he pulled off much better than William Schuester, and matching black pants. He was messing with the buttons down the front of his vest when he heard his name.

"Mike!" She exclaimed and he was already smiling before he looked up. He saw the petite girl jogging towards him, but he didn't process her actions until her small frame crashed into him causing him to stagger back a step. Her arms went around his neck and his moved around her waist. He picked her up, causing her to laugh as she held on to him, and they spun around before he sat her back down both of them smiling widely.

"God, Rach, you act like it's been forever," he said and dropped his hands from her waist, one moving into his pocket. "It's only been like, half an hour," he said after consulting his watch.

"Am I not allowed to miss you?" She said with a look that told it all. Rachel Berry was allowed to do whatever she wanted. He put his hands up to say he surrendered, knowing when he should just let her win. She beamed at his reaction.

"Come on," he said and nodded towards the hostess stand where a middle aged woman stood.

"Cherry for two," he said without hesitating causing Rachel to look at him strangely. The woman checked the book, nodded, and grabbed two menus.

"Follow me," she said with a false sweetness dripping off of her words. Rachel followed behind Mike and tugged at the hem of his shirt to get his attention.

"Why did you do that?" She asked as they approached the table. Mike pulled a chair out for her and waited for her to sit before he spoke.

"Because I wanted to make sure we had a table?" He replied like it was obvious, because really, it was. He walked around the table and sat in his own chair.

"No, I get that. But, Cherry?" She inquired while laughing. "What's that supposed to mean?" He looked down embarrassed. It was more of a joke for himself and he hoped she wouldn't have noticed, but he should have seen it coming, this was Rachel he was talking to and she was very observant.

"Oh, that," he hesitated. Now to explain. "Well, I thought, I mean since Finn and Kurt have Furt, we could have Cherry." He pointed to his own chest. "Chang." And then pointed across the table to her. "And Berry."

Her thoughts whirred through her mind at an unbelievable pace. There was Furt, a brotherhood, yes and that was very sweet. But, there was also Finchel and Puckleberry; relationships. Not friendships or family. But, he couldn't have been trying to say more with that. It was just a joke, plus it was very cute.

"I like it," she said flatly and picked up the menu, scanned it quickly, before picking some new pasta dish. She sat her menu down and a few moments later he did as well. He crossed his arms and rested them on the table.

"Tonight was a wreck," he said simply, referring to what was a disaster of an attempt to get recognized, knowing she would understand what he was talking about. She shook her head.

"You weren't." He was actually far from it. Watching him dance by himself showed her that he had confidence. Confidence that she looked for in relationships she made with people. He danced like nobody she had ever seen. Not to mention, his acting was superb, the way he acted with the mop while dancing, sort of made her wonder what he would act like with an actual person. Maybe herself. So, maybe her feelings resurfaced from the night of her party, but she came to the conclusion that they weren't completely irrational. Friends can dance together, right?

"Well, thanks," he said smugly. "Maybe I could teach you some moves," he continued and raised his eyebrows suggestively, teasing her. She couldn't help but smile. She realized that she always smiled around Mike, no matter what it was they were talking about. She always felt better when she go to see him.

Part of the reason she was as happy as she was to see Mike that particular night was because when she stayed after the performances, Finn tried to talk to her. She didn't know if she would be able to handle actually having a conversation with him. She'd given up, she'd walked away and not dragged on about, but now Finn was coming back to her and she couldn't say she liked it. All she knew was that if she got to Breadstix, everything would be fine.

"Maybe," she said shyly, quite unlike herself, and she felt a familiar warmth spread across her face, letting her know it was now probably just as bright as a tomato.

Just at that time the waitress interrupted their conversation to take their orders. When she left the comfortable chatting continued until she returned with their plates of food. That's when things got silent because they were both eating.

After about two minutes, Mike was getting ridiculously impatient for her to say something, but couldn't think of anything to say himself. His fork twirled around the spaghetti in front of him, and he reached for a breadstick. He tore off a small piece and was about to put it in his mouth when he had an idea. He looked up at Rachel who was focused on trying to get some of her food onto her fork. He looked off to the side and raised his arm, which went unnoticed to her. With a flick of his wrist the small piece of breadstick was flying across the small distance between them. Out of his peripherals he could see it hit her square in the forehead. Her actions halted and she looked up at him in confusion.

"Michael Andrew Chang!" She burst, appalled that he would throw food in a restaurant. And at her! He laughed, doubling over, and almost getting a face full of spaghetti. And then collected himself in a few short seconds.

"What's wrong, Rachel Barba Berry?" He asked innocently, to which she glowered at him. Her foot now roamed under the table with purpose, this action unknown to Mike. He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering why her silence was the only thing he was receiving. Their feet finally made contact and he noticed a small flicker of mischief in her eyes before she pulled her foot back. She put a small amount of force into the kick, but enough to where he would definitely feel it. Her foot hit his shin and he all but yelled out to the now slowly emptying restaurant.

"Ow! Oh my god, Rach. What was that for?" he said, surprised she could inflict pain with such a small foot. He wasn't sure if there was going to be a bruise there, but he wouldn't be surprised if one did show up.

"That was for throwing food at me," she said with a humph, exaggeratedly sticking her nose up in there. She tried to keep her eyes forward but couldn't help look over at him and then her serious face broke into a smile when she saw him giving her, what looked to be, puppy dog eyes. Mike was one of the few people who could break her from character when she was trying to play something off, the others being her dads and Kurt, as well. She turned back to him as he asked her.

"Can you forgive me?" He asked looking at her. She already had a smile on her face and he knew she was over it already, but he waited for her to talk before dropping his sad act.

"Yes, Mike, I forgive you," she said as she picked up her fork and stuck in it a clump of noodles. They continued their meal, bantering and just having a good time. It was easy for them to enjoy their time together, their conversations flowed easily and their expressions change appropriately with each arising topic, no fear of being judge on an opinion. Before they knew the timed had past, their plates were empty and they were both too full for dessert. "Time flies when you're having fun" being an all too appropriate summary of their night. They walked outside of the restaurant and lingered at the sidewalk talking. The light of a street lamp hit Rachel's face just right and he noticed a small smudge of sauce at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, Rach, you got a little something," he said reaching up to touch his face where the small amount of dinner was on hers. She reached a hand up quickly, trying to get rid of it as soon as possible to reduce the embarrassment. They went through the charade of "Here?" "No there" a few times before Mike finally gave up and reached a hand forward to her face. His palm was on her cheek gently and his thumb moved over the corner of her mouth, the food disappearing with it. His hand lingered, longer than it should have and they both recognized that, they just couldn't say that to each other.

Her eyes watched him carefully as his hand stayed on her face, waiting for him to make a move, to do anything. Her thoughts were confused, not sure what she was wanting right now. Did she want him to leave his hand and pull her closer? No, that couldn't be it. _**He**_ wouldn't want that. He _**couldn't**_want that. She was still the same girl. The same girl that fought for Glee clubs solos, who constantly got made fun of by the Cheerios and football players, who thought that when it came down to it, Finn was the person she belonged with. But was that really true? She began doubting that thought when she had given up chasing Finn. But now he was coming back to her and she was starting to lean towards accepting him instead of turning him away.

The urge to pull her forward and kiss her was overwhelming him, he knew that would change everything. He would never be able to take that back. And not knowing whether or not she wanted it caused him to doubt himself and drop his hand from her cheek it retreating to his pocket.

"Umm, how are you getting home?" He asked looking to the ground, not wanting to confront what was just an awkward situation between the two of them, one of the few they've been in. He could still feel the tension in the air, just hanging around them.

"I was hoping you would take me," she said with a smile, easily grasping on to the more comfortable topic, dropping her thoughts from just seconds before.

"Oh, well my cars in the shop," he said with disappointment. "I should've remembered your dads had a date night, I could have borrowed my mom's car." Her grin widened as she heard that. He remembered. It was something she'd mentioned forever ago and only in a side comment, but he'd held on to that fact and it made her immensely happy.

"It's okay, we can just walk," she said and moved shoulder to shoulder with him and they began walking in the direction of their homes. Her arms moved around his bicep easily and held on to him as their steps fell in sync. The sound of their shoes hitting the ground was the only thing accompanying them. They just enjoyed this position, enjoyed each other as they walked.

They finally reached her porch, and she reluctantly let go of his arm and turned to face him. What would happen now? If this were a date she would kiss him. But this wasn't a date, and the realization hit her that they were just two friends hanging out, nothing more.

"Thanks for walking me home," she said quietly, a bit of nervousness in her. She wasn't sure what was supposed to happen here. Would he just hug her and walk off? Is that how this was supposed to go?

"That's what friends are for," and he mentally winced at the word. Friends. That's what they were and he had to accept that, he had to remind himself of that when he thought of how easy it would be to just kiss her.

"I hope you know you didn't really have to pay for me," she said teasing about his insistence on taking the bill when it arrived at the table. She didn't think much about it, except that she could have paid it just as easily as he did.

"I did too. I owed you for being a jerk, remember?" He smiled, the awkwardness breaking in their situation. She shook her head at his statement.

"No, you didn't. You know I was just kidding, right?" She asked causing him to laugh.

"Yeah, I know. Who said I didn't just want an excuse to go out to dinner with you?" _As friends. _She mentally plugged in the end of his statement. Her small bits of laughter joined his, but they both abruptly stopped when she placed her hands on his shoulders. She pressed her palms down lightly and rose on to her toes, trying to get as even with him as possible. She leaned forward and he wondered what was about to happen. Was she about to kiss him? Was this really how it was going to go tonight? Her face moved slightly and he realized her intentions and he closed his eyes as a feather light kiss was placed on his cheek. He opened them as he felt her drop her hands and she lowered back down onto her heels.

"Thanks, Mike. See you later." She said looking at his reaction, wondering what he was thinking.

"See you later, Rach." Was all he could reply when she turned to go in her front door. He walked down the steps back to the sidewalk, trying his hardest to decipher what had just happened. The only thought he had straight was that he didn't think he would be able to sleep tonight.

"_Yes, There's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you."_

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><p>AN: So what did you think? Please leave a review and tell me! (:<p> 


	7. I Still Need a Date to Prom

AN: So, I promised somebody that I would give them some Jesse/Rachel resolution in one of the chapters because the actual show lacked it greatly. So, that's a prominent part of this chapter, as well as Cherry, obviously. (: I just am glad everybody is enjoying this and can't wait to hear what you have to think about his chapter. Please, pretty please with sugar on top, please review. (: Y'all can't even imagine how happy I feel when I see just one response, imagine if you all responded! :D Anyways, I hope you enjoy! (:

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><p>The song had just finished. The beat was still pounding through the both of them. Was the song right? Could they have had it all? Rachel is staring in Jesse's eyes, like if she were to break eye contact he would disappear, but he was really standing in front of her. She couldn't believe he was back, after everything he'd done and he was back in McKinley's auditorium. The stood in silence for a short moment before Jesse mustered the courage to speak.<p>

"I'm so sorry, Rachel." He said and stepped closer to her a pained expression on his face. She could tell he regretted it, just his short statement summed up everything. His hand moved to the side of her face, his rough skin awkwardly pressed against her cheek. She continued watching him as he leaned closer to her. She didn't want to pull away, afraid of hurting him more than he already was.

"For everything," he said and then he pressed his lips to her fervently, like he was trying to convince her this was right. She froze under the contact, her lips not moving against his and her hands urgently moved up to his shoulders and she pushed against him, not too hard, but enough to get him to pull away. She shook her head nervously, taking a step back out of his touch.

"Jesse, I-" And disappointment hit him the moment he heard the hurt in her voice. He cut her off with his words.

"Oh, god, you're with Finn aren't you? Oh god, I'm such an idiot." He turned away form her and started to walk towards the stairs of the stage so he could escape this situation. She walked briskly over to him, her hand catching his arm, causing him to turn around.

"No, I'm not with Finn..I just…" She trailed off, not sure what to say to him to make him feel better. It's not like she had a reason not to kiss him. She wasn't with anybody, but she felt bad. She felt like she betrayed somebody and now there was guilt over her like a cloud over her head, but the only problem with that was she had nobody to betray. Why did she feel so bad about this then?

"Just what?" he asked, growing impatient with her silence. The only thing that she could process in her mind was that her feelings for him had changed.

"I don't think I feel the same way about you that you feel about me," she said softly. He looked to the ground, feeling rejection from the girl he thought was so good for him, so much like him.

"Oh," he said simply, no other reaction from him except acceptance, which made her appreciate him more. Her vision of him had changed since he was gone, since they'd dated. She could see the guy who humiliated her, and cracked an egg on her head, who she didn't think she could fully trust. She could also see the guy who apologized and was extremely caring, and full of regret. Along with one of the few people who accepted her exactly the way she was and the pretty much canceled out his past mistakes in itself. She just didn't see him as boyfriend material, as somebody she would consider dating again. He left without saying anything to her, making her believe he didn't care at all, when he'd acted like he did. What if she gave him another chance and he did the same thing? What if he hurt her again? She didn't think she could handle the pain twice, especially not now since he seemed so genuine about his apology.

"You're a great guy, Jesse," she said and his face brightened a small amount. "And I care about you, I really do." He opened his mouth to say something else, but her confidence flowed easily as she continued. "And I know you care about me," he nodded, acknowledging the words he was just about to say. "We have so much in common: Singing, ballet, our dreams about New York, countless other things." He looked at her with focus as she tried to establish her feelings in words. "And I know similarities are vital in a relationship. But, have you ever heard the saying "Opposites attract?" He smiled sadly, realizing where she was going with this. "Well, I think that's true too."

Her mind wander to a certain timid guy she knew, that would never have had the confidence to kiss her as urgently as Jesse had, or at all. Maybe that was all that their was in their way, his reluctance to make a move. Or maybe it was just because he didn't feel the same way she did.

"Maybe," she paused choosing her words carefully. A small smile teased at her lips when she spoke again. "There's just not enough room for two stars in one relationship." She said it in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Maybe," he said laughing lightly, understanding all of her spoken words. So she didn't want to be with him, he could deal with that. He'd done some terrible things and was just now apologizing, he understood if she still had a grudge. But, he didn't believe that was why she was saying these things, she had accepted his apology and he was grateful for that much. It just made him wonder why she had rejected him. He didn't think any thing was in their way of being together again. Though, apparently there was an obstacle for her.

She looked at him concerned for how he was feeling. She thought back to their past. The conditions under which they had met were pretty unique, pretty fantastic as well. Though that part was great, and when they were together equally as fun, she couldn't disconnect Jesse from the pain of meeting her mother who still didn't want to be there for her through him, as well as the obvious hurt he caused himself. She could see doing the things they used to do, going to shows, hanging out, having coffee. Why couldn't she maintain a friendship with Jesse after they got past their history? She could tell he was upset, his head dropped almost in shame but more embarrassment from trying to get a kiss from her.

"You know," she said slowly causing him to look up at her. She now had a wide smile. "I still need a date to prom," she said surprised that statement was still true. She'd hoped somebody would ask her before now, one person in particular, but maybe she had to just take a chance herself. His face lit up and he responded quickly.

"Rachel, I would love to take you to prom." He said excitement coursing through him.

"As friends," she clarified with a knowing glance.

"As friends," he replied, knowing the boundaries he had. He put his arm out for her and she happily slipped her arm through his as they left the school.

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><p>Jesse gave her a ride home and when she hit the landing of her stairs she bounded up them quickly. She got to her room, closing her door behind her, sure not to slam it so her dads wouldn't be worried. She grabbed her phone quickly and dialed the familiar numbers before she hesitated.<p>

"What am I going to say?" She asked herself, suddenly wondering why she was about to call Mike in the first place. Well, you tell friends everything, and she thought it was a very important thing that Jesse was back. She paced back in forth in her room rehearsing statements she was considering saying to Mike.

"Oh, hey Mike, Jesse came back into town. We're going to prom together," she said with a cheesy smile and held the phone to her ear like she was actually talking to him. She shook her head and lowered the phone, turning it over in her hands. She thought for a moment before raising it back to the side of her face.

"Hi, Mike. So, you'll never guess who showed up today?" _Who? _She thought, plugging in what she would hope for him to say. "Jesse! Crazy, I know, right?" Her laugh was phony as it joined her question. _Didn't he just abandon you? _"Well, yeah. But now he's back and you'll never guess. We're going to prom together." She imagined what his response would be but couldn't quite pick how he would react. "As friends," she added to the end of her statement quickly, knowing she would really need to clarify that for Mike. She groaned and fell back on to her bed in a huff. She decided to just wing it, she'd had her fair share of time practicing improv. She pressed the green button, initiating the phone call.

Mike was standing in his kitchen when he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. He checked the name and smiled answering the call and put the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he moved through some of the cabinets looking for a specific container.

"Hey, Rach," he said and the words she had rehearsed slipped from her mind, so even if she had decided on something to say she wouldn't have remembered it. She stayed silent, not sure why she was waiting to say something else, but her thoughts were broken by his voice.

"What's up?" He said standing up on his toes to look up in the very top cabinet still not finding what he was looking for.

"Oh, well. I sort of wanted to talk to you about prom." She said nervously, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Oh, really?" He said with a smirk she couldn't see, but she could hear in his words. He'd found the vase he was looking for and sat it down in the sink. He turned the water on and watched it fill up partially and shut the water off before she responded.

"Yeah, uhh..I sort of have a date." She said finally dropping the news, feeling like she'd dropped a weight as well. This weight must have passed straight through the phone to Mike because, her news hit him square in the chest. He dropped the bundle of flowers he held in his hands into the vase that now contained the water he specifically poured for that purpose. His eyes flashed over the note attached that read:

Rachel Berry,

Would you make me the happiest guy in William McKinley High, and go to junior prom with me?

- Mike Chang

"Umm, that's great," he said, trying to sound happy for her, before he felt a twinge of envy in him. "Who is it?" He asked, wanting to put a name to the guy who had gotten to her first.

"Oh it's Jesse," she said biting her lip contemplating an explanation. After a short moment of him not responding, still in shock, she continued. "He came back in town and we've worked things out. So, since nobody asked me yet, " And he was already feeling regret. "We're going…together." Her statement ended there until she remembered a single thing from what she practiced. "As friends," she tacked on urgently.

Her after thought only helped ease Mike's feelings minutely. He was going to ask Rachel to prom this afternoon, making him just a few hours late. He'd finally worked up the courage to take this step. He had planned to ask her to coffee, leave the flowers by the register so as she walked up to see him, like she always did, she would notice them. Her eyes wouldn't be able to help but wander to the card where the personalized note was. He would act like he had no idea what she was talking about when she wanted him to turn around. He would already have a Caramel Macchiato in hand, something that had become a trademark of their friendship. Then, she would say yes to him. He would pick her up and spin, and maybe…maybe, just kiss her.

But, he was wrong. He was all wrong. That wasn't how it was going to happen.

"I'm happy for you, Rach," he said letting jealousy seep into his tone, which she had a hard time recognizing. She smiled at his response, seeing at his genuine, and she was glad he was happy because if he was she could be too.

"Thanks, Mike," He felt a pain wash over him. He couldn't stay on the phone longer with her, if he did he would be tempted to just tell her everything right there, and that wasn't the way to do it, not when he was this angry.

"Umm, I need to go, Rach. I'll talk to you later?" He said and took a deep breath, trying to keep himself composed while on the phone with her. She was surprised at his notion to get off the phone so soon, there conversations were never this short.

"Sure, Mike. Talk to you later." She replied and waited for him to respond before realizing he'd already hung up.

In his kitchen, he was furious with himself. Furious for waiting so long. For not telling her. For everything. He yanked the flowers out of the vase roughly, specifically grabbing the note and tearing it in half before literally throwing it and the flowers into the trash. He kicked the counter with all of his force, his anger focused on that one point where his foot connected with the wood.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

"_If I didn't know you I'd rather not know. If I couldn't have you I'd rather be alone "_

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><p>AN: Sooo, tell me what you think! :D<p> 


	8. You Were Made to Go Out and Get Her

AN: Okay, so this **may** be my last update for a week or so..yeah, I know it's stupid, but I'm going on vacation. I WILL write while on vacation, so expect something when I get back, if not tomorrow night when we get to the hotel and I can get internet access. (: Anyways, like always, I hope you enjoy it! (: Feel free to tell me anything about it. What you liked, what you hated, what you want to happen next. GO FOR IT!

For the past few weeks Mike and Rachel had been moving around each other awkwardly. Rachel going with Jesse to prom had practically killed Mike, even though she had no clue. If they couldn't go to prom as a couple, why couldn't they at least go as friends? Like Jesse and her. Though, he'd much rather had preferred a date, either would have sufficed at this point. He couldn't just tell her that, though. He had no idea what would happen. What if what he said caused their entire dynamic to change? He couldn't risk their amazing friendship over something like this that was so unsure, but his doubt was causing their friendship to waver and he had no idea where it was headed.

Their coffee outings had slowly faded, down to where it had been at least a week since they talked to each other outside of school. Mike hated it. He missed her coming into his work place, missed making her coffee.

Just all of it.

Prom was that evening. Mike didn't have a date seeing as the only girl he'd been hoping to ask was taken for the night. Still, he went through the routine of the tux, the hair, the shoes. At least maybe he would be able to enjoy himself, distract himself, relax himself. He'd received a text from Rachel saying that Sam, Mercedes, Jesse, and herself were all meeting at Breadstix before if he wanted to join them. He'd considered it carefully, maybe they could just talk, make things like they were, he was the cause of all this and he needed to fix it. So he decided to go.

He walked into the restaurant with a blank look on his face until his eyes fell on her. He couldn't say she was anything but stunning in her dress. Her hair pulled back and hanging in just the right places, framing the soft features on her face. Of course, Mike didn't noticed the details, all he saw was a gorgeous girl. To the right of her, on the aisle side of the booth, sat Jesse. Across from Rachel sat Mercedes with Sam next to her. He was going to be the only person without a date, so why did he decide to come again? Oh right, for Rachel.

She was talking and laughing when he walked in, but she got that weird feeling when you just know somebody is looking at you, so she looked up meeting Mike's eyes immediately. She smiled and nudged Jesse's arm, getting him to move so she could slide out of the booth. She walked up to him, smoothing down her dress as she did so.

"Hey, Mike," she said looking up at him. She was so scared that when he slowly stopped talking to her on a regular basis, that she was going to lose another friend. She wasn't sure exactly why he'd done it, but she didn't care for it at all and she was just glad he was here. She noticed his eyes flash behind her head, to the guy she knew was still sitting in the booth. Her inability to read him at times like this was absolutely infuriating, especially when she wanted to be able to understand more. He wasn't exactly an open book.

"Rach," he said softly, admiring her entire self before looking back up to her eyes. He took a deep breath and said the next words in almost a slur, nervousness coming across in his voice. "You look beautiful." She looked at him sadly, missing his compliments, his overall sweetness. It hadn't been long since they'd talked but to her it felt like a lifetime. Without responding she moved to hug his chest, her arms around his waist and his arms moving over her shoulders, almost protectively. She let out a small laugh and then finally replied to him.

"You're not so bad yourself," she murmured close to his chest. This was what he wanted. He wanted things to be these easy all the time, if he were to tell her how he really felt, things would just get weird. They continued to hug for a short moment as his eyes wandered across the room. They met with Rachel's date, his face full of understanding. He broke the eye contact off quickly, him feeling strange for Jesse to be watching them like that, like he was interrupting a private moment. Rachel finally pulled away from the hug, not wanting to ever let go, but she had a prom to go to.

"So, you going to stay to eat? Or did you just come to see me?" She said teasingly a grin on her face. They fell into their regular conversation habits easily, them being so comfortable with each other.

"I was planning on staying," he said truthfully, "But, now I think it looks like I would sort of be the odd man out." He shrugged. "I think I'll just head over there early, maybe I can help with tickets or something." She nodded in response, when really she wanted to ask him to stay. Would that seem needy?

"Oh, okay." She said quietly. "I guess I'll see you there then," she said and moved to walk back to their table.

"Rach, wait," he said suddenly and she turned back to face him. He took a step closer to her. He wanted to say something to her right now, about how he wished he would have asked her earlier. He just came up with something else instead. "I think you should have ran for Prom Queen. I would have voted for you." She laughed lightly and felt her familiar blush, something only he could seem to cause, creeping on her cheeks.

"Thank you, Mike. That's very sweet." She said and then chewed on her lip lightly. She wanted to say something about him running for King with her, but she didn't. Before she could continue he said something else.

"Mind saving me a dance?" He smirked, the playful grin that she always liked to see. She knew that whenever they were together, be it at the coffee shop, Breadstix, or school, things were going to be fine.

"Of course I'll save you a dance," She grinned and then looked back at the table where her other friends were sitting. "For now, I kind of need to get back to dinner." His nod reflected his understanding and she turned to walk to the table, him actually turning to the door this time.

He'd made it outside and was walking to his car when he heard somebody coming up behind him, then they called him out.

"Hey, wait up, man." He turned to see Jesse St. James jogging towards him and looked at him completely dumbfounded. What was he going to do now?

"What do you want?" He said bitterly to the one guy that he felt stood in between Rachel and him. Jesse sighed at his anger and spoke level headed in response.

"I just want you to know that we aren't _**together **_together." He said, emphasizing the word that sort of changed the meaning of the sentence. Mike understood what he meant, Rachel had already told him that. Anyways, why did Jesse feel the need to tell him?

"Why should I care?" He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing off the fact the girl he most wanted to be with was going to prom with the guy standing in front of him. Okay, so maybe he hadn't let it go completely. Jesse's tone turned serious, it would be a strange topic for them to touch on, but he wasn't going to hurt Rachel by keeping her from somebody who cared about her.

"I see how you look at her," he said referring to the girl who was still sitting inside socializing. "I know it's cliché, but I used to look at her like that too. But, she doesn't see me that way." He said simply, the thought hurting him but caused Mike's hopes to raise slightly, before they came crashing down around him.

"Look, as much as I want to be, I'm not right for her. You two have more in common, you both sing and stuff" Mike said his voice raising in anger as he pointed out one of the obvious differences between Jesse and himself. "You can promise to go to New York with her, I would just hold her back."

"I may relate to her more. But you help her more," his composure dropped as he continued. He didn't want to admit these things to himself, but he had to, and to Mike. He didn't want to give up on Rachel, but he also wanted her to be happy. "You know how hard I've tried to make her feel better about herself? To make her feel worth something? You do that without even trying to, man. She's the happiest I've ever seen her." He shook his head, not believing what Jesse was trying to convince him of.

"Look, dude, all, I'm trying to do is help you here. We've already talked this over. We're friends, that's all." He said looking at Mike with a glare. His expression changed and Mike looked down, nodding slightly, finally accepting what he was trying to say.

"Now you just need to go get her," Jesse said and clapped him in the shoulder before turning back to resume his dinner with Rachel, leaving a completely taken back Mike standing in the parking lot. Was that all it would take? He'd already tried and then Jesse stepped in before him, if it was supposed to be that easy it should have happened by now. If all it took was him going to get her, than why was it so hard for him to get the courage? He knew he cared about her enough that taking a chance shouldn't be that hard, but it was proving to be a challenge.

The night went on at an extremely slow pace for Mike. He watched all the people dancing, got himself a few drinks, snacked and talked casually with his friends; Puck, Artie, Sam and the rest of the Glee club. He just couldn't see himself going on to the dance floor, he couldn't even think of doing the thing he loved the most. He didn't have the energy to get up and actually move to the beat. That was until the DJ came over the mic announcing they were going to end the night with one last couples song. Mike painfully watched people pair up as he remained at the drinks table.

Then he remembered: Somebody owed him a dance.

He walked his way through the crowd, trying to find the recognizable pink dress Rachel had on, or any sign that she was close. He looked around frantically and finally spotted her, Jesse was holding her close to him. Rachel stood peacefully with her head on his shoulder, her face straight until they turned and she saw Mike watching them.

He began walking towards her at a quick pace, trying to get to her in enough time so they could actually dance before the song ended. Her smile grew as she lifted her head off of Jesse's shoulder and at the same time Mike tapped the opposite one to get his attention. Jesse turned, releasing one arm from Rachel and looked at him, already knowing what he was about to hear.

"Mind if I cut in?" Mike said and Jesse gestured to take his place, letting Mike carried on the dance with Rachel. Jesse moved away from the two, off to do who knows what, they sure weren't paying attention.

Rachel's arms moved naturally up on his shoulders, her hands clasped behind his neck. His hands were on the small of her back and she realized how right this felt. This was what she had wanted so long ago, that night he danced at her party, and then again when he danced at the Night of Neglect. She rested her head on his chest, feeling him breathing and hearing his heart beat against her ear. It was calming and she could admit, the best dance she'd had all night. They barely paid attention to the music and just kept moving in circles while people filed out the door around them.

She sighed, content with their current position and never wanted to move but the song had stopped, there were only a few people lingering in the room, chatting softly. Their dancing had slowed until they were just standing there, holding each other in what had turned into a hug.

"I missed you, Mike," she said softly into his dress shirt and stood up on her toes so she could pull him closer to her. He gladly hugged her tighter.

"I missed you too, Rach," he replied glad to have fixed this without him having to elucidate. They both knew they had moved past this time where he had distanced himself from her, and she didn't need any explanation. She didn't want one. She just was glad to be here, in his arms. Even if it wasn't exactly in the same way she wanted, maybe it was a step closer.

_"Yes, there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you."_


	9. So What If I Am?

AN: This chapter and the next are both RIGHT after the Nationals kiss. They are still in the hotel in New York and yeaa…soo I hated not updating and got wifi tonight, FINALLY. (: ENJOY! REVIEW! FAVORITE! And the like. (:

It wasn't the right time. That's what Mike kept telling himself. There were too many other things that Rachel had on her mind, he couldn't add his feelings into the mix. All this time was building up to Nationals. The weeks after prom were spent rehearsing day after day. They stayed late at the school, going over the same steps again and again so they looked effortless. Flawless. They were nowhere near as ready as they could've been, having been sidetracked by the funeral. But, they couldn't very well just act like it didn't happen. They had to do something, and when they were finished, reality hit them. Hard. They began frantically planning and organizing things, prepping for one of the biggest events in the Glee club's history. They were actually going to Nationals. All of it was building to this exact moment.

And then their chances were shot. When the performance was over and everybody had that feeling in the pit of their stomach, the feeling of uncertainty. The feeling that this wasn't going to go right. They all knew what happened with Rachel and Finn. The kiss on stage was too real, too personal, they didn't need anybody to tell them that. Every single one of them, including the dancer who cared so much about Rachel, knew this was where it was over. They stood in front of the board all of them scared to death, gripping on to the last bit of hope they had with all of their might.

Until Mr. Schuester turned around. He didn't have to say anything to the Glee club, the look on his face said it all. They hadn't made it. Their hope slipped out of their grasp and everybody was obviously disappointed. Rachel stood behind the group, ashamed of her actions, regretting every second of that kiss, that was just so wrong. She hadn't talked to Finn, she didn't need to, he knew she was angry and he would get around to resolving this eventually. In his mind, he'd won her back, even if she was mad now, they would be together.

A single tear fell on to Rachel's cheek, only because she had lost control of her emotions. Normally, she would have stayed confident and defended herself on her actions, but now, she didn't have the strength. She turned away from the rest of the group and bolted to the girl's hotel room. She knew they would eventually come get her, that she would have to leave the safe haven, but for now she just curled up into a ball, her arms around herself almost like she was trying to give herself a hug. She wanted somebody to hold her, to tell her it would be okay. And she could only think of one person being there for her in that way, but he was busy doing something else.

Mike was mad for two reasons. He'd spent so much time working on this with Rachel, they'd perfected all of the choreography, worked late into the night, fell asleep while figuring out the moves through text, the only way the could communicate so late without their parents knowing. Another reason was because he cared about Rachel. He wanted to be able to kiss Rachel whenever he wanted. Not on stage, because he wasn't a complete dunce like Finn, but he wanted them to be together. He envied the courage that Finn had by kissing her, be he also hated him for it. He'd cost all of them Nationals, not just Rachel, but everybody and he better have some good excuse for it.

All the other guys had found their way out of the hotel room, but Mike waited. He waited until everybody else had gone somewhere, then he went up the elevator to the guy's room. He was going to confront Finn about this, try and get some clarity. He burst through the door with all his might, finding a relaxed Finn laying on one of the beds, his hands behind his head. He sat up when he saw Mike with an angry glare on his face.

"Why the hell did you do it, Finn? How could you do this to Rachel, to all of us?" He said loudly, walking towards the bed, causing Finn to swing his legs over the edge and stand up. Finn acted as if he hadn't just ruined all of the Glee club's plans for the future and just put his hands up defensively.

"Dude, get over it. It's too late now." His tone was casual, Mike couldn't believe that Finn didn't see what he'd done wrong. It was obvious to everybody what was wrong but for some reason Finn was completely oblivious.

"Fine, you can't take it back, but tell my why the hell you did it!" He moved towards Finn and backed him towards a wall. Finn looked intimidated and it was a satisfying feeling for Mike to know he was actually causing Finn to understand that everything was not fine. Finn stood up straighter, though. He was confident in his next words.

"Because I love her!" He replied quickly with just as much volume. Mike turned away from him, wanting to hit him square in the face. Love. That word made Mike's blood course through his body at a faster pace and caused his hand to twitch in anticipation.

"No man," He said shaking his head. "That's not how love works." He turned back around, pointing a finger at the taller boy in front of him. "If you loved her you would have known how bad she wanted this. You would have waited." Mike realized that sounded familiar to himself. Was he just waiting for her? Finn had gone about this completely wrong, by taking advantage of her in a vulnerable situation. Mike, he'd taken every precaution to make sure he wasn't coming on too strong, he'd been careful to keep within his boundaries. He was definitely going about this much differently, but he didn't see why that mattered at this moment.

"We'll win next year, man! Everything will be fine." He said his voice raising to just below yelling. He wasn't mad about this, so he didn't want to yell, but he was enraged at Mike's words. Why was he attacking him like this?

"You can't guarantee that!" He used as his rebuttal. It was true, nobody could assure a win next year. They could say they would work harder, that could say nothing like this would happen next year, but nobody could promise anything.

"I don't see why you care so much." Finn said, taking a large step towards Mike. "Everybody else is out doing something," He waved his hand towards the door. "Or sulking or whatever. But, you're here yelling at me." He couldn't hit him with his fist, but he wanted to hit him with something. He picked up a pillow and threw it forward to Finn, causing him to duck, it barely missing his head and hitting the wall behind him.

"What the hell, man?" Finn exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. He'd never seen Mike this mad, in fact, nobody had ever even heard him raise his voice. What had gotten into him? "Come on, go ahead, tell me why you care so much." He said almost as a dare. Whatever made Mike react like this was insane and he wasn't about to just let it go now.

Mike was done. He couldn't take it anymore. He strode forward to Finn, a furious expression obvious on his face.

"Because I," he said and hit Finn in the shoulder, causing him to stumble backwards and hit the wall he stood by. "_Actually_ care about Rachel." He looked at Finn seriously not going to leave without Finn understanding why he was mad.

"Actually care about, Rachel?" He said more as a question, was this guy being serious? "What's that supposed to mean? That I don't?" Finn pushed against both of Mike's shoulders creating some distance between the two of them. Mike shook his head and walked backwards heading to leave the room while still talking to Finn.

"You know what? Just, never mind. You wouldn't get it." He turned on his heel to leave and then Finn said his next words that caused Mike to regret ever coming in this room. The words that caused his blood to boil at it's peak and wrath to course through every vessel in his body.

"Wait, you like her don't you?" That's when Mike froze and started to feel his pulse rise. "You actually like Rachel?" And Mike could here the possessiveness in Finn's voice, as if nobody else could like Rachel, because Rachel was his. Mike knew how wrong he was in thinking that and as he turned back to Finn to say something Finn added one more statement. "Man, I'm sorry. That sucks, but me and Rachel are going to be together, it's always been that way. " He said it like it was the most obvious statement in the world and that's when Mike went off on him, telling him exactly what he thought of Finn.

"Finn," he started off causing Finn to raise his eyebrows in questioning. "You. Are. An. Idiot." He said each word coming out as it's own sentence. "You are the worst possible person that could be with Rachel." He walked closer to him, keeping serious eye contact making sure he heard every single word. "You've hurt her over and over. You picked another girl-over her. You picked prom king-over her. You picked football-over her. But, you still have some twisted idea that you can always go back to her and that she'll be waiting for you. What if, this time, she doesn't want you back?"

Finn was in shock. Mike couldn't seriously mean all these things, it wasn't possible. Rachel would want him back. Rachel always wanted him back even when he didn't want to go back to her. Nothing could change her mind. The only thing Finn didn't know was how much the guy standing right in front of him had already changed her, caused her to realize that she could do so much better than Finn, that she could find a guy that put her first. Finn glowered at Mike for a short moment before responding.

"What is it? You think you're so much better than me?" Finn grew arrogant he believed he was the best for Rachel and Rachel brought out the best in him.

"So what if I am?" Mike challenged. Mike had heard everything to know about Finn, that's what he got for being best friends with Rachel. And the only thing he was 100% sure about was that Finn had treated Rachel horribly, and Mike promised never to do that.

"Rachel wants to be with me, I know she does." Finn's voice grew weak as his statement went on. He had no proof that Rachel still wanted to be with him. There was the kiss, yes, but nothing after that. No talking about getting back together or going on a date. Mike turned to leave once more, this time with a purpose.

"We'll see about that," He said and closed the door behind him. Finn instantly got busy and texted Rachel, telling her to meet him downstairs in the lobby, and that they really needed to talk. She obviously already knew that. He believed that should do the trick, he would talk to her and they would get back together before Mike could say a single word to change her mind.

Mike knew he needed to talk to Rachel, to find her and to tell her everything. She needed to know, he couldn't stand letting Finn try and get her back if she didn't know everything. He also had to figure some things out for himself.

He needed time, time to sort things out in his own head before spilling them to somebody else. He went to the restroom, trying to get some privacy to clear his mind. But, he realized he didn't have any to spare, so he walked up the few flights to the girl's room not knowing Rachel had already headed down the elevator and Finn had already left the guy's room as well.

AN: What did you think? :D


	10. Ready?

AN: Okay, so I'm not going to say much about this chapter or else I will spoil it. I know I will. So, here you go! Enjoy! Review, Favorite, Subscribe and the like. (:

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><p>Mike walked down the halls of the hotel determined. Determined to find Rachel. He'd had enough of keeping things from her, of acting like he was okay with where they were. He needed to tell her, even if she didn't want to hear it. He got to the door of the girl's room and knocked after gathering the courage.<p>

It took a moment but the door eventually opened and he saw a very angry Quinn Fabray when it did.

"Is Rachel here?" He asked and she rolled her eyes and waved towards the elevator.

"No, she's downstairs. She said something about talking to Finn and then left, like, 2 minutes ago. Probably to talk about how they cost us Nationals," she said bitterly. Mike urgently turned away from the door causing her to grumble and slam it as he pressed the down button on the elevator. With his luck it was there in seconds, but when he got inside he became impatient. He'd waited long enough and now he had to get to her. He pressed the button furiously as if that would make the next floor come faster.

He reached the bottom floor and immediately spotted the abnormally tall classmate of his standing next to Rachel. He walked over there fast, examining Rachel and her awkwardness in her position, her arms crossed in front of her closing her off from connection. Her face showed pain as he saw Finn rambling on at her and when she saw the moving person out of the corner of her eye and turned to look, it showed relief. He locked eyes with her and she raised a finger to Finn, making him stop abruptly without her saying a word. She took a few steps to meet him part of the way.

"Can we talk, Rach?" He said seriously as he began to get nervous. He was actually about to do this. What was he supposed to say to her? He'd never been in a situation like this before. How does this even work? How are you supposed to tell your best friend that you want more than just your friendship?

"Of course," she said and looked over to Finn to see him glaring at both of them. She was unaware of the unspoken conflict between the two boys, but looked back to Mike ignoring him. He scowled as he felt his anger rise again. She noticed his expression change as he reached forward to grab her hand gently. She felt her heart race at the touch, feeling herself become anxious with what they would talk about. He wasn't sure where he was taking her, but he was sure that if they got off this floor at least Finn wouldn't be there. He released her hand and she was surprisingly disappointed at the loss of contact. He pressed the up button on the elevator and when the door opened he moved in quickly, her following. He pressed the door close button to assure nobody else got on with them and the number of the level that the girl's room was on. The stood in silence as the first beep of the elevator sounding, saying they'd reached the second floor.

"Why did you do it?" He said simply, looking forward towards the closed doors. He decided a different approach. Get an explanation first. Then, tell her how he feels. She looked to the ground. What was the supposed to tell him? She'd publicly embarrassed herself by kissing a guy that she could honestly say she didn't care for. The thing was she didn't see it that way, she kissed him back, which was very different. She never would have initiated a kiss with Finn. She turned to Mike directing her words at him.

"It was just overwhelming emotion. We we're, uh, caught up in the moment." She could see his frustration was accompanied by another emotion and she was frustrated herself that she still hadn't figured out how to understand what was going on with him.

"So, because you have so much emotion you can just kiss somebody on stage? You could have waited until we we're done. Until we'd already won. I thought you were over him, anyway?" Her walked towards her, backing her into the corner of the elevator. He needed a reason before he put himself out there. If she turned around and said she wanted to be with Finn after he'd already let her know how he felt, he knew their friendship wouldn't last.

"Mike," she said as she felt her back press to the wall of the small compartment. She felt sort of worried with his actions, but stood her ground. "I am. I was just confused okay? He kissed me and I kissed him back. If it's any consolation, it wasn't a good kiss. It was awkward and there was basically no pleasure at all." He groaned, he really didn't want to hear about the details of that completely confusing and angering kiss.

"No, Rach, it's not. That still doesn't explain why." He said bitterly. He didn't want it to let it go. He couldn't. Maybe now wasn't the right time to tell her, everything was just so puzzling, maybe he needed to wait until things were calm again.

"I already told you." She said, confidence raising in her voice. She didn't really know why she had to explain everything to him. She was hoping he would be the one person to comfort her and here he was tearing her down. "It was overwhelming emotion. I-"

"I hate that that's your reasoning." He said cutting her off. "Overwhelming emotion? I've been there before." _With you actually_, he wanted to add. "And If I were to kiss a girl every time I was "overwhelmed with emotion." He said sarcastically and laughed. The next words came out without him thinking. "We" he said naturally gesturing between the two of them, "Would be in a very different place right now."

She finally placed the other emotion in him that she hadn't been able to understand all those other times. The same emotion she saw when they were playing spin the bottle, the same one in his voice when she told him about prom, and the emotion that was clearly etched in his expression now. Jealousy.

"What?" She said in almost in a whisper and he couldn't muster a response. His brain caught up with his words and his jaw dropped in shock, his eyes widening as well.

"I…I just…I…"Did he really just say that? Did he just suggest that he wanted to kiss her? That couldn't be true. Could he have just changed the entire aspect of their friendship in a matter of two sentences? She examined his face, his worry. He didn't have to worry about replying because he was interrupted by the small girl in front of him.

"Do it." She said quietly trying to get her voice to come out clear and confident but it only came out shaky and anxious. Her heart was pounding furiously, threatening to burst through her rib cage. She could hear it pounding in her ears and was sure the sound was revealing her nervousness to him. It was his turn to ask a familiar question.

"What?" he stuttered out not believing what she'd just said.

"Kiss the girl," she said broadly, altering his words slightly, and shrugged like it was no big deal. Looking back at that moment, she would find it humorous that she'd somehow plugged a Disney movie into such a serious conversation, but in the moment it was perfect. He listened to her words. She wanted this too and that was so hard for him to believe.

He leaned down towards and took a deep breath preparing himself for this step he'd been looking forward to for what seemed like forever. Then words cut off his actions.

Their conversation was fairly quick, but neither of them was paying attention to the beeps of the rising levels, that is until the doors opened to three girls, the particularly rude one being the one who spoke.

"Get a room," the blonde said like she was disgusted at the scene. The Latina standing beside her along with the blonde who she had hooked pinkies with both mimicked Quinn's expression. Mike squeezed his eyes shut tightly his face just a few inches from Rachel's. His teeth were clenched and she wanted to reach a hand up and move over his jaw so it would relax, but he stood up straight and faced the girls.

"Excuse me," he said nicely, "Could you give us a minute?" He asked and without a reply he pressed the "door close" button along with the button of the highest floor in the hotel. Behind him he heard Rachel laughing softly and he moved back towards her with a grin as the elevator started rising once again. He put a hand gently to the side of her face, savoring every second, the pad of his thumb rubbing across her cheek bone. She automatically noticed the contrast between Jesse and his hand's, how Mike's felt more natural, more comfortable and like each contour of his palm fit with her skin.

"Where were we?" He teased and leaned down to have his face level with hers again. "Oh yeah," he said with a smirk.

He finally pressed his lips to hers urgently and she felt like she was jolted by an electric shock. Her hands grasped at his shirt desperately, the only thing she could reach in their position in the corner, and pulled him closer to her, not wanting to disconnect. Their kiss was relaxed, but eager, their mouths moving against each other in a natural motion. There were spots of heat, where his hands lingered on her and she was addicted to this feeling. Is this what kissing was always supposed to feel like? If it was, something had been wrong before. The something hit her, like a slap in the face as all she could see was colors bursting behind her closed eyelids.

This. This was what fireworks were. She could feel the energy from the top of her head down to her toes. That feeling where, in this moment, nothing could be wrong. She lifted herself up on her toes and used the wall behind her to support her actions. She tried to deepen the kiss, but knew she would need to actually breathe at some point. He broke the kiss sweetly, using small kisses to reduce it to pecks and then to nothing, although he never wanted to. She slowly lowered herself back to the balls of her feet and then to her heels.

"Wow," she breathed, still clinging to his shirt. Their foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breath. Her hands moved up his chest hesitantly, something she'd wanted to do for awhile and now it was reality. They made their way up to his neck and her fingers began aimlessly moving through the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands had moved to her waist, holding her small frame to him.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," he said looking at her seriously. She placed another chaste kiss on his lips, loving that flip flop feeling in her stomach. She kept their faces closer together as she could feel his breathing ghosting against her skin.

"I think I have an idea," she said quietly with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She remembered the night at Breadstix when she wanted this so bad. She had confidence to do a lot of things, but not this. He smiled and kissed her again, her still not having enough time to catch her breath but when the kiss broke she spoke anyway.

"So, what does this mean?" She whispered looking up at him with a worried expression. What if this wasn't what she thought it was? Although, she did believe she would have a hard time messing up the interpretation. The only thing she knew was that she wanted more. More of this, more of them being together. Just at that moment the doors opened again and Mike reached over pressing the same level from earlier. He moved his hand back to her quickly, a bright smile on his face.

"This means that I would be extremely happy if you, Rachel Barbra Berry, would be my girlfriend," he said with a cheesy nature, causing her to grin and her heart to leap, but he wasn't finished. "This means that I promise to never hurt you. I promise to still be your very best friend. And I promise to protect you and always be on your side, even if you're wrong." He joked and kissed her once more, hoping what he said wasn't too much and that this kiss wouldn't be the last. He didn't need any explanation for earlier, the thought wouldn't even cross his mind anymore as long as she wanted to be with him. She released his shirt and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Her head rested on his chest comfortably.

"I like the sound of that. A lot." She said with an unfaltering smile. His arms wrapped around her shoulders almost protectively. In them both not wanting to ruin the perfection of the moment, neither spoke. It seemed like a much shorter time before the doors opened for the third time. He audibly groaned, not wanting to face the rest of the Glee club, or anybody for that matter. Simply, not wanting to move. He reluctantly let go of her and as she did the same he immediately wanted to regain contact.

"Ready?" He said holding his hand out for her to take. She stayed quiet as she reached out and their fingers interlaced. She looked at their hands the whole time, like she was amazed this was finally happening, because she was. She looked up at him with a smile and a nod.

"Ready," she said and they turned to leave their temporary safe haven, both of them prepared to stand toe to toe with reality.

More like a 6' 3" frankenteen.

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><p>AN: What did you think? (:<p> 


	11. Much More Than Alright

AN: So, I have had much internal debate about this story. Originally I wanted to end it at the last chapter and let it be joyful and people would have their own happy endings in their heads but..I can't seem to do it. I can't let this story go. And now that I've continued I have no idea when I'm going to end it, but I want it to last as long as possible because I love you guys reading it, I love the feedback and I love writing this pairing. (: So, I'm opening up to suggestions of fluffy things, or not, that you would like to see, now that I'm past the end of season 2 my book is WIDE open. So go ahead, I would love to hear some suggestions. For now, enjoy the chapter and review, subscribe and the like. (:

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><p>It wasn't hard for people to adjust to the fact that Mike and Rachel were a couple. They had spent so much time together before, almost everybody saw it coming, except for the two exes who didn't want to admit it and move on. Finn especially took it hard and he tried to fight with Mike before they left the hotel, but Mike just stood his ground. It was a while before Finn would actually talk in Glee club again and by that time, summer was already approaching.<p>

It didn't take long before people were carting off to summer camps and vacations. Rachel being one of many. She, after much discussion, accepted an offer of a, paid in full, singing and acting camp in New York. She would keep training over the course of the summer, gain a roommate, and receive the opportunity to showcase her many talents to meaningful figures that hold important roles in the Broadway community. It was almost like a dream come true, she was getting a chance to shine and she had to take it.

The only problem was that she returned home from camp exactly one week before the first day of school. Which would leave Mike and her one week together, actually together, during the summer, before being thrust back into the harsh high school reality where people broke up and got back together weekly. The summer was different for couples, where everything was at ease and cozy, but they wouldn't have that together. When she were to come back they would pushed, poked, prodded, slushied and everything else imaginable that could cause their relationship to falter. Neither of them wanted that.

Before Rachel left they had fallen into the habits of a couple easily. When they walked together down the hall, their fingers interlaced instead of hanging their hands by their sides. Sitting next to each other in Glee club, her head would fall to his shoulder comfortably and his arm would hang on the back of her chair, after scooting it closer of course. They stood at their lockers, talking until the last available moment before the bell rang. Whenever he walked her home, or drove her home, from coffee, dinner, or a movie, he kissed her good night, like he'd wanted to so many times before. And man, would they kiss.

It seemed like every moment that was deemed acceptable their lips were locked together, sometimes until they ached. They felt like they had to make up for the time they'd wasted trying to decipher their feelings for each other. But then, it was all torn away very quickly, their moments that they wanted to last forever now feeling like short blips. They were now separated by hundreds of miles.

This was sort of a reality check for one of the teens. He knew that one day, in about a year from this time, this would actually be Rachel's life. There would be no, "I'll be back in a few months," business. So she might come back to Lima for holidays and those sorts of things, but they wouldn't be able to maintain a stable relationship from so far apart, could they? That wasn't his priority at the moment, they would cross that bridge when they got there. For now he was making the best of their time.

So, they tried to stay in contact as much as possible. Texting late into the night, and staying on the phone for hours and somehow never running out of things to talk about, even if the conversation reverted to him telling her how beautiful she was. But, they both needed more than their cell conversations and when the coffee shop where Mike worked finally setup WiFi it was almost too perfect. Mike never had internet at his home, or a computer for that matter, his parents didn't see it necessary.

Mike would borrow a laptop from Puck, Sam, or Artie, whichever didn't mind that day, and stay about half an hour or more, most of the time more, after work talking with Rachel on Facetime. And he actually got to see her face for a short period of time, although it wasn't the same as in person, the pixilation blurring his vision of her.

Mike had ended up with Sam's computer, and when he was done closing up, he plugged it up. He made himself a drink and sat down in front of the laptop expectantly. After it was turned on it only took a few minutes for the window to come up and with a few clicks and some typing Rachel was shown drinking an iced coffee on her bed, just as he was taking a sip of his own. She laughed lightly and started the conversation.

"The regular?" She asked with a grin as she adjust the laptop in front of her. He smiled and turned the coffee cup to the checked off boxes on the side that indicated extra whip, no chocolate, a preparation he'd gotten used to and actually enjoyed himself. He knew he didn't have to check off the details when making one for himself, but now it was just habit.

"Never anything different," he said simply in reply as she read the directions that automatically came out when she placed an order for that drink in any coffee shop. She picked up her see through cup once more so she could show him.

"Yours looks better than mine," she said and looked at the withered whip cream on top and the off color of the cold liquid inside with a disgusted look. She took another sip despite its flaws. They'd fallen into their simple conversation habits despite being separated by so much, and it felt right.

"Where'd you get that one?" He asked and gestured to her cup, despite it being on the other side of the screen. She pondered for a short second, trying to recall the name of the place she'd gotten this one. She'd tried places all over New York, but couldn't seem to find one just right. He enjoyed watching her think and the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and her head tilted to the side only slightly. And she shook her head out of frustration.

"I know it was right down the street, just a hole in the wall, but I can't seem to place the name," she said and then her slight smile turned to an exaggerated frown with her next statement. "Either way it's not the same without you." Before he could console her, or even process her comment, he heard words definitely not coming from his girlfriend.

"Ugh! Gag! Can you two cut it out?" Rachel shot an annoyed glare off past the camera and Mike looked at her with a twinge of confusion.

"Who's that?" He asked, which caused her to look back to the screen, like suddenly realizing her boyfriend was still there. She put a smile on but annoyance was still clear.

"Just my roommate," she said with a shrug. The last time they'd talked Rachel hadn't had a roommate and was enjoying the life of having her own place. Looked like that had changed. She opened her mouth to say more but was cut off again by the obnoxious voice. It grew louder while it spoke, whoever it was getting closer to the camera. Rachel visibly winced at her words.

"Her roommate who is very tired of hearing how "cute Mike is" and how "nice Mike is" or how "fun Mike is." I'm sick of it. I've barely been here a week and that's all I hear about" She groaned, all of the words about Mike being said in a sarcastic tone, showing her true irritation. Then, Mike's view was suddenly changed and turning, him catching glimpses of other things in their shared room as it looked like the camera was spinning.

"Let me see Mike," he heard her say before the camera stilled. In view was a girl with fiery red hair that matched her personality perfectly.

"Patricia," she said in response to his obvious puzzlement. He just looked at the screen in shock, his view now very contrasting to the last one. He couldn't say Patricia wasn't attractive, she was, but just in her own way. He took in her appearance slowly. Dark eyeliner lined her eyes and winged out slightly. A piercing was placed on each of the following places: Her nose. Her lip. The cartilage of her ear. And a spot close to her collarbone that was barely revealed by the shirt she was wearing. Her red hair had undertones of black and was pulled back into a layered ponytail, it looking more preppy than it should have on this girl. He didn't know how to respond and her eyebrow arched, waiting for a reply.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Mike," he said blinking a few times making sure that this was the girl actually staying in the same room as Rachel, Patricia's attitude and exterior definitely not looking, or sounding, like they would balance well with her. He heard muffled laughs off to the side, knowing Rachel was very amused with the situation. Patricia squinted her eyes, like they were making on the same examination that he was.

After a few seconds of silence she shrugged.

"He's alright," she snapped the laptop shut, causing Mike's screen to go black. She tossed the laptop at Rachel, who fumbled awkwardly to cradle it carefully when she got it, not wanting a single scratch. She left it closed before she whispered to Patricia, not realizing the audio was still fully functional on her laptop.

"He's much more than alright," Rachel hissed with a defensive tone. She was shocked that anybody would call her boyfriend average, when she knew he was much more than that, at least to her. She opened up her laptop to reveal her boyfriend, looking straight into the camera, almost like he was trying to make eye contact with her and a cocky smirk played on his lips.

"What?" She asked to his obviously new expression. His shoulders just shook lightly with light laughter., only in part of teasing her, not actually making fun on what she said.

"Much more than alright, huh?" She rolled her eyes and felt a blush paint her cheeks. He grinned, seeing her face change shades, loving that he could still do that to her with teasing, and glad that hadn't disappeared with their friendship.

"You heard that?" He nodded once and then she continued. "Well, I think you should just ignore her, she barely knows me and knows nothing about us. And what's so bad about thinking my boyfriend is great? You think **I'm** great, right?" She asked and she frowned very similar to earlier. Only this time, instead of being interrupted before he could console her, he heard a door slam as if Patricia had left the room and then he spoke.

"Yes, I think you are amazing, Rach." He said with a grin and his playful tone turned serious, him realizing how much he missed being able to lean forward and kiss her pout whenever she joked around like this on top of tons of other things. "I miss you." He said suddenly and she smiled sadly in return.

"I miss you too, Mike," she said softly and he heard her catch on the end of her words. He wanted so much to be able to gather her in his arms now and hug her until she couldn't stop smiling, but that definitely wasn't a reasonable possibility. He didn't know how he would function without these kinds of things whenever she moved to New York for good. He would either have to join her or break it off and he really didn't want to face that decision right now. So, he was going to put it off as long as possible.

"Hey, don't cry, please? For me?" Her vision had blurred only slightly. They'd been apart for a little over a month now, and it was hurting her more than she could vocalize and that was a hard thing for Rachel to face, her being such a confident person. She knew that one day New York would be her home, but she didn't let her mind dwell because she didn't know if she could ever see Mike there with her, like she could never see Finn or Puck by her side in her future. This was where she has wanted, and always will want, to be. But, she wanted to be with Mike, and now, just being away from him hurt. What would it be like in a year from now? She tried not to let her serious thought crowd her head, so she just smiled and nodded, replying with a soft whisper.

"Okay, I'll try." she said and reached a hand up to stop the tears before they spilled over. She tried her hardest to smile, trying to focus on the good things right now, and not what was yet to come. He tried to think of a good conversation topic and could only think of one question.

"So, how's New York this time around?" He asked with a grin and his question caused her face to light up. It was like she was now blaring her high beams and everybody should watch out or they would be blinded.

"Oh, Mike, it's great!" She said excitedly. "Everything is so different when you aren't stressing about writing songs for a competition." He laughed, glad she was already feeling better just at the shift in topic. "I'm actually getting to do touristy stuff this time. I'm getting to enjoy all of it, knowing I have plenty of time to soak it all in." She was practically bouncing in her seat at this point, her words flowing at an outrageous speed. "And being here, again, just reassures my feelings that I want to live here. That this is the perfect place for me. Mike, you have to see it. Like, actually see it once, because everything is just so amazing." She grinned.

"I'm glad you're having fun." He said, his smile being forced. His thoughts were now creeping back into the corner of his mind because of how sure she was of herself, and what she wanted. He knew he was supposed to have dreams of his own, but now all he could think about was her going off to have a great life and him staying in Lima. That definitely didn't sound glamorous.

There was only one thing he knew for sure about all of this.

New York wasn't going to be his niche.

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><p>AN: So, this definitely didn't turn out like I planned and was sort of just trying to get some ideas out there and set up for future chapters. Let me know what you think. (: I won't be able to update for a week seeing as I'm going to a small city where there is almost no internet access anywhere, so I will take my laptop and just write. I'll try to write as much as possible so that when I get back I have plenty to share. (:<p> 


	12. You Could Never

Ooc: So, I feel like a jerk for not updating for so long, but I tried to make up for it with length. The next time I update will be very soon, I promise. (: I've planned out how to end this and I thought this would be something interesting. If the thoughts seem broken and unfinished I kind of came up with this as I went along, not really planning this chapter out, but I wanted it to happen. So, yeah, here it goes. I hope you like it. (:

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><p>It seemed like forever before Rachel was back, but she finally was.<p>

It was probably one of the cheesiest acts Mike had ever participated in, but seeing her reaction when she saw him standing in the airport with flowers and a sign that read her name made it all worth it. He'd tossed the cardboard to the ground and she'd left her suitcase behind when she ran to him, her plaid skirt ruffling slightly as she pushed past a few people in their way. He held the flowers tightly, but managed to pick her up and spin her around, a wide smile on both of their faces, after she practically jumped into his arms. He'd sat her down and presented her the flowers, to which she took one smell and then put her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. It was sweet and longing, their first kiss in months, and it was something they had missed. It ended with a softly muttered, "Wait, here," as Mike left Rachel standing there so he could retrieve her rolling suitcase from the floor where she left it. Returning to her and grabbing her hand, they both looked over to see her dads with wide smiles as they led the way back to the parking lot where their car, as well as Mike's, were parked.

The beginning of their school year went by in a flash, but somehow they'd made it through the toil and struggles. They could still feel the warmth of the other's hands in theirs when they sat in Glee club as they had the day they walked out of that elevator. And every single kiss and touch they shared, were enveloped in sparks and pure heat resembling the kiss from that same day. Though being separated had its set backs it was like they naturally picked up where they left off. Already learning more about each other and spending more time together. Their relationship had grown to where they knew they could always rely on one another, whether it be needing help with Spanish homework or needing support at a family reunion that Mike dreaded.

Glee went on as always, Mike spending an abundance of his time working on perfecting their choreography for every performance and Rachel already formulating songs for Nationals. She was trying to find one that would have the perfect touch and guarantee them a win, although they really couldn't know for sure, last year she thought they were going to win but obviously that didn't work out. They had their weekly assignments which always varied and pushed them out of their comfort zone, but resulted in breakthroughs within their group. Mike had even tried singing again, actual singing, with much needed help from his girlfriend.

Nothing of substance actually happened before the this point. Well, maybe the time Tina suggested "I Don't Like Your Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne as a possible Nationals choice caused everybody to realize the tense environment between the exes of the new couple. But other than that? There wasn't much drama. Just the occasional snide comment and sarcastic remark was it, mostly from the gossipy female.

If it amounted to anything Rachel and Mike had their first fight. If it should even be considered that. Sure, they had discussions before where they had conflicting opinions, but they were always resolved. One even resulting in Mike becoming a vegetarian, he knew it would be difficult, but Rachel made valid points in her argument and he settled that it would be easier with help from her. She was proud of him for making a decision like that and it ended there. This was different though.

This fight happened midway through October. Up until then they'd been fueled by the newness of the relationship and now they were running on fumes. It's not like the intensity had passed. Oh god, no. That was definitely still there. It was like they were comfortable with where they were, which was good for now.

There was a Halloween party hosted by the party master himself, Puck. All the best ones were his. When Mike first heard the news he'd immediately known what he was going to be. A ninja. To this Rachel giggled under her breath and suggested he be the tin man as she was going as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz and was currently brushing up on her rendition of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." After much persuading and Rachel noting that it would give him an excuse to do the robot, he finally caved.

It was a Friday night, so Mike knew she would be free because of their natural pattern of going out on Fridays as her dads did and also that they wouldn't have any problems getting there. Then, Rachel caught some bug, making her sick. That Mike didn't know. He called her after school, having already briefed his mom on the plans for the night. She picked up after one ring, the phone sitting on her bedside table as she laid in bed a blanket pulled tightly around her.

"Mike?" She asked, trying to make her voice sound stronger and not come across as weak or tired. She didn't want him to worry and so she put on a false front.

"Hey, Rach," he said with a smile as he was putting silver make up on his face and down his neck. He'd managed to find a very convincing, actually metal looking costume and was very excited for the rest of the evening. "I was just wondering when I should come pick you up?" He asked putting down the small sponge he'd been using and looking over at his digital alarm clock that read 6:45. Apparently Puck wanted people showing up around 8. Mike had started getting ready early, knowing it would take a while to put on his costume and then pick up Rachel. Rachel started coughing loudly, trying to pull away from the phone so he wouldn't hear her.

"Are you okay?" He said when he heard the muffled coughing from the other end of the line.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied quickly, her voice still hoarse from the coughing. She coughed once more to clear her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine," she repeated, her voice more clear the second time.

"If you say so," he said, still unsure of her hurried response. "So, what time?" He asked again when he put the phone on speaker and sat it on the bathroom counter in front of him. He also started on applying the costume makeup again, something he'd had experience with from Glee club. Mostly that one Kiss performance.

"Well, actually, Mike, my fathers aren't going out," She said sweetly, as if pulling this excuse out of the air was a regular habit of hers. "So, they wanted me to stay at home and us have dinner together tonight." She lied easily. She didn't want him to be concerned, so she tried to appease his worries with different reasoning for her to stay in her bed all night. There was a part of her that wanted him to hear the coughing and realize that she definitely wasn't okay, but she also wanted him to have a good time and didn't want to seem clingy or hold him back. She'd made that mistake before.

Okay, so maybe the desperate part of her that wanted him to come hold her won out as she coughed weakly into the phone once more, hoping for him to say something, but he seemed clueless.

"Oh, okay," he said with a disappointed tone. He knew he would still go, only if she was fine because that coughing didn't sound good at all. "Are you sure your okay?" He asked warily, not knowing what was going on with her. Her voice sounded different and her words weren't as full of confidence as usual. That was the response she was hoping to receive, another inquiry of anxiety, but then she automatically regretted making him question again.

"Yes, Mike, I'm fine." She said firmly letting the caring side of her will him to go have a good time. "You go to the party and have fun, okay? We can wear our costumes together on Halloween, or some other party. So, don't worry about it." She said with a smile that he could almost hear in her voice.

He listened to her, thinking something was up, but knew if there was something going on Rachel would have told him. Right? He also knew that wearing this costume was more for her and kind of lacked the humor when she wasn't Dorothy beside him, but he really had no choice at this point and just nodded.

"Okay, well, hope you have a good dinner," he said nicely and hearing him be so sweet when she was telling him an outright lie almost made her get up and go to the party anyway. But, then she realized she could barely reach over to get her phone off her bedside table so that definitely wasn't happening. Then she considered actually telling him she was sick, but couldn't that either. "Talk to you later?" He asked after she didn't reply for a few moments.

"Yeah, talk to you later," she said in almost a whisper and she checked her phone to see that he had hung up. She sighed, placing her phone back on the table and sighing. So, maybe her idea wasn't completely fantastic, for one she had just lied to her boyfriend for the first time since, well, ever. And two, there was still an aching part in her that could practically feel his arms around her that wanted him to walk in her bedroom door any second.

Mike went to the party solo, receiving many, "Come on, man," comments as the party was growing in its wildness. People were dancing around, grinding against each other and sipping on alcohol somehow obtained by Puck, breaking their promises to themselves made so many months ago to never drink again.

Mike was one of few that stuck to his promise.

He'd also left the party early, he might as well not have gone at all. He did not find it necessary for him to be there in that ridiculously bulky costume and it's not like he really wanted to join the rest of the party in their wild activities anyway.

He was driving home when he noticed that he was running low on gas, so he pulled into the closest place he could find. He'd changed out of his costume before leaving Puck's house, now wearing a regular pair of pants and a short sleeved short. It was an unconventional look in Lima, seeing as Halloween was over a week away. Yet he was walking around with silver face makeup from his finger nails to his elbows as well as spread and blended from his hairline to his collarbone. He got out of his car, grabbing the nozzle in a particularly monotonous task. He leaned against the pump in waiting and noticed a familiar face on the other side.

"Mr. Berry?" Mike asked and stood upright as the short man turned to him. He looked very confused and just backed away a little.

"Do I know you?" He asked timidly his voice shaking like Mike was some kind of threat to him. Mike nodded his head understanding how the man could be confused.

"Yes, sir," he placed a hand to his chest, as if that were to help him identify him past the layers of silver on his face. "It's me, Mike Chang? Rachel's boyfriend?" He asked and before her dad could even asked he just shook his head. "Halloween costume," he said simply and he received a nod of understanding. Mike looked into the car and saw Rachel's other dad and gave him a small wave before turning back to the man in front of him. One thing he did notice was that Rachel was not in the backseat of the car, which highly confused him.

"Umm, where's Rach?" He asked pointing into the backseat like their daughter should so obviously be there. At least that was the only thing that made sense to Mike seeing as she was supposed to be eating dinner with her dads tonight. Her dad looked extremely confused seeing as the pattern of him and his husband going out on a date night hadn't been broken since Rachel could stay home by herself.

"She's at home. Did she not tell you she was staying home?" Her father asked concerned seeing as he had left his daughter in a weak state at home and would be disappointer in her for bailing on plans that she had previously made without telling anybody.

"Well, yeah. But, she said you two weren't going out and wanted a family dinner." When her father heard this, he was taken back. His daughter didn't lie, that wasn't something of her character, and hearing Mike say that sort of worried him. Instead of going on with this lie, which he was sure his daughter would prefer had she known that he ran into Mike, he told him the truth.

"Well, Michael, my husband and I are still going out without her. She stayed home sick." To this Mike's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It didn't make any sense to him, why would she say she was doing something when she wasn't? Now he had to see her and ask her himself.

"Umm, can I see her? I mean is there a way I can, or a key or something, or if the door's open," he started rambling and couldn't complete his questions. He just wanted to be able to see her, but had no clue if that was possible.

"There's a key under the mat," the man said and clapped Mike on the shoulder before turning to stop pumping the gas into his car and that seemed like their parting words. Mike moved back to deal with his own car, not sure what he was going to do when he got to his girlfriend's house. Her fathers left with a wave to Mike that felt more like a good luck.

Mike went directly to Rachel's house, feeling his fists clench in frustration on the steering wheel when he got to a red light. It was purely coincidence that he ran into her parents on the other side of town, but he didn't care how it happened because now he was just utterly bewildered that Rachel would lie to him. And about something like this.

When he eventually arrived at her house he was nervous. Okay, he was beyond nervous, more like he was scared. There was absolutely no reason in his mind that Rachel should lie to him, but she still did. He did as her father said and retrieved the key from under the mat. Only in a small town like Lima could you get away with that. He opened it and went up to her room, he'd never actually been in her room this late at night, but he got to her door and knocked on it softly, hoping she wasn't asleep. Immediately he heard her.

"It's open," she called just loud enough to hear through the wood of her door. He hesitated in opening her door, but he did and he walked just a step into her room, not wanting to invade boundaries if she didn't want him in here now. She had plenty of rest and wasn't anywhere near as weak and her coughing had died down over an hour before, her sinuses having cleared up due to the medicine she took. She rolled over and faced him, expecting it to be one of her dads coming to check on her. Although, it would have been sort of early for them to be back. When she opened her eyes and saw who it was, it was obvious, silver makeup on his face and hands and she sat upright quickly.

"Mike, I, my dads, our dinner, we just," she talked quickly, not being able to find the words to explain herself to him. He didn't want to hear excuses, he wanted to hear the truth. He felt his anger rising and he shook his head, looking at her seriously.

"Why did you lie to me?" He asked like it was ridiculous for her to even consider doing that and she stopped talking. She looked down to her comforter and felt horrible, hearing the anger soaking his words and she hated that she did that to him.

"I didn't want to keep you from going to the party," she said quietly as she pulled a piece of a blanket around her finger before releasing it.

"So, what? You lied to me so you could lay at home sick and me not know anything about?" He asked stepping closer to the bed. "How does that even make any sense?" Hearing it put that way made Rachel feel even worse. She didn't know what to say to make things better, so she just worded her answer before differently.

"I didn't want to be a burden on you, or make you feel like you had to take care of me or something." She said quietly knowing she was bound to get a reaction from that.

Mike had a thing with protecting her, but she loved it. She loved how when they were walking down the hall his arm was always around her or he was holding her hand, or when somebody insulted her he always made a point of standing up for her. One time he'd even seen somebody coming at her with a slushie and he'd stepped in front of her, taking the slushie straight in the face. She'd held a tight grip on to the back of his shirt, wincing as she heard what she knew was cold liquid hitting him, but she didn't feel a drop. She'd been immensely grateful and gave him a sticky, corn syrupy kiss before he went to go clean himself up.

And now, here she was telling him to stop worrying about her. As if that were possible.

"Rachel, when did it become a bad thing for me to worry about you? You're my girlfriend, not to mention my best friend. I think I have good reason to be worried if you can't even get out of bed because you're sick." His voice was raising and she couldn't look up at him because she was scared to see the anger in his face in a way she never had before.

"Mike, I wasn't thinking okay?" She said and felt tears stinging in her eyes as her hands still messed with the blankets covering her. She didn't like fighting, she realized it had never been like this before. Of course, she had never lied to him before. If she could help it she would never want him to be this mad again. It was hard for Mike to see her sad like this, and the fact that he was making her feel like this made it even worse, but he still couldn't logically process why this had happened in the first place.

"I just don't get why you lied to me about this." He said firmly, the volume of his voice being regular again. "You know that it would have been no trouble for me to come over here and check on you and I definitely would have liked to not put all this on," he said raising his hands for her to see the silver makeup on his forearms and hands and knew he still looked ridiculous with it on his face. She looked up and wiped her cheek where a few tears had fallen.

"I feel like," She paused. Should she say it? Yeah, she should. "I feel like I'm always bothering you. With songs for Nationals, or asking about choreography, or telling you about the roles I want to get on Broadway, or what songs I want to sing in Glee club. I just didn't want to bother you with me being sick too." She said and looked him in the eyes, past all the silver glaring back at her.

"None of those things are like you being sick. And I like when you tell me about those things, because those things are who you are. That doesn't bother me a single bit. You should know that by now. You should have always known that." he said stepping closer to her and looking at her desperately trying to make her understand. She gave him a small nod and then stood up and gave him a hug since he was now standing right by her bed.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I-" She knew exactly what she was thinking. She was thinking about how when she went out with Finn it always felt like he was required to stop talking to the cheerleaders for her instead of it feeling like he wanted to stop talking to them so he could spend time with her. He'd always just tolerated hearing about all the things she liked and wanted to talk about. With Mike it had never been that way before, even when they were just friends. So why was she acting like it was the same thing now? She didn't even know herself. Her arms wrapped around his middle and her head laid on his chest. "I'm sorry," she said softly. His arms moved around her shoulders and held her close.

"Just, please, don't ever think that you're bothering me, because you're not. You could never." He said gently and let her out of the hug, his hands on her shoulders so he could look her in the eyes and make sure everything was okay. She smiled and nodded reaching a hand up to touch his cheek.

"You should probably get this stuff off," she said and he broke into a smile. He knew things were going to be fine, he wasn't sure what stirred her doubts in the first place, just as long as they were gone now.

"Yeah, you're probably right. And it's getting late, so I should head home," he said and his hands let go of her shoulders, hers still lingering on his face. Her thumb rubbed lazy circles on his jaw, which she knew had been tensed moments earlier and was glad everything was okay.

"I could help you. Clean up, I mean," she said looking up at him, wondering if that would be okay. He nodded still with a smile and she grabbed his hand, pulling him to the bathroom in her bedroom. He stood in the bathroom as she moved around, grabbing a rag and putting soap and water on it and then hopped up on the counter, her legs hanging over the edge.

"Come here," she said gesturing him closer. He moved between her legs and his hands rested on her knees. She gently started rubbing all over his face, watching the silver wash away and reveal his true skin. She watched as the rag moved over his skin, how the tension in his forehead released and how his breathing slowed, her knowing he was relaxing.

It was silent. Neither of them said anything as she took her time looking at all the parts of his face. Taking time to let the fingers of her hand not holding the rag run over his features. She gently touched from his hairline to his chin and he just remained silent and still, watching her do this with such serious concentration on her face, like she was trying to memorize him with her hands. She would occasionally lean over to rinse the rag but then immediately moved back to cleaning his skin. She washed down his neck and then it came to his hands.

She lifted one of his larger hands with both of hers and slowly began wiping away the makeup from there and his arms as well. She cleaned both of his arms faster than she had his face but when she was done she took just one of his hands and leaned forward against him, her cheek resting on his shoulder. She gently traced the lines of his palm with her fingers and his other hand stayed on the counter. He watched how her fingers hesitantly moved over his hand, but it was relaxing and surprisingly comfortable. When it seemed like she had done that for enough time, she held his wrist and interlaced their fingers, seeing how it seemed like they just naturally were supposed to be like that.

"Can you stay?" She'd whispered softly without looking up to him. She didn't know if he would be up for just staying the night, but what else she didn't know was that he was exhausted, making her offer seem even better.

"Only if you want me to," he said still looking down at their joined hands. He didn't want things to be uncomfortable or her to feel like he was going to try and make her do something if they were in the same bed, because he wasn't. He would never do that to her.

"I do," she said and pushed lightly against his chest with her free hand, causing him to take a step backwards and giving her enough space to get off the counter. He led him to her bed and laid down like she had when he arrived, her back to him. It didn't seem weird or forced. He quickly texted his mom, saying he was going to be at Puck's house so there wouldn't be any questions and then turned his phone off. If she didn't approve he didn't care of the consequences.

He moved into the bed behind her, pulling the blankets up over them and snaking an arm around her waist, pulling her back to his chest. She sighed, feeling calm and she hardly felt sick anymore. Why she had kept him from coming here earlier and doing this now made no sense to her. They didn't say anything else to each other, but just laid there both of them dozing off to sleep easily.

That morning was when Rachel realized she really liked waking up next to Mike Chang.


	13. You Think That Love Just Happens

It's been over a year since the day that Rachel walked in that coffee shop that was pretty much the foundation of Mike and her's friendship and now relationship. Things were different now. So different. But, in the very best way. Mike and Rachel's relationship had molded and formed to where it was almost too good to be true.

Rachel could admit that none of her past boyfriends had ever made her this happy. Mike was different. He didn't boast about being on the football team or wear his letterman excessively. He wasn't completely theatre obsessed but, for Rachel, he would sit and watch a musical needing little explanation. Not to mention him being wildly talented. It seemed like each time she watched him dance she liked that confident part of him more and more. And when they would dance together she sort of wondered why she never told him that she loved that part of him. But, she actually knew why and just didn't want to admit it to herself. Back at the camp in New York over the summer she'd talked to Patricia and even though they didn't get along very well, she made her realize there was a part of her that was falling too hard too fast. But, she couldn't help it. That was just Rachel, she got emotionally invested into things very quickly.

She remembered when Patricia had told her. It was about a week before she was to come home and she'd just got off the web chat with Mike. She sighed and leaned her head back against the headboard after shutting her laptop,

"I really miss him," she said more to herself and not the obnoxious roommate she'd acquired. The girl was meticulously putting together a bracelet on the desk in front of her, something Rachel realized that Patricia loved to do, and then spun around in her chair to look at Rachel. She cocked her head to the side slightly with a questioning look.

"How long have you been dating?" She said narrowing her eyes, like she was trying to analyze Rachel's thoughts without them having to be voiced.

"Only a few months," She shrugged and then continued. "Though we have been very close friends since Christmas of last year," Rachel said remembering the first time she had actually seen Mike outside of the regular school environment. You would have thought she would have earlier, seeing as the live in such a small town, but it never really happened.

"And you're already this," she waved one of her beading tools in the air, gesturing to Rachel up and down while trying to pick the right word. "Love sick?" She asked raising one of her eyebrows on her very expression filled face.

When Rachel heard her words it kind of took her off guard. Love sick? She'd never thought about it like that. She knew she cared about Mike, a lot actually. But the word love in particular didn't sound like something she would feel for Mike. He was her best friend, her confidant and the person she knew she could go to about anything. But, love?

She'd always known love to be the great abundance of feeling for a person that you can't contain. It was supposed to be overwhelming and breathtaking. Amazingly romantic and exciting. But, that's not how it was with Mike. It was comfortable and soothing, like she'd known him for a lifetime and then some. Her heart ached when he wasn't close, instinctively reaching for his hand when he got near. It was different.

Different than she had ever felt with Finn. Mike made her feel great about herself and secure about their relationship, which made it much easier to put all of herself into it. But, it didn't feel like love. Or, it didn't feel like her warped vision of love.

After Rachel sat for a minute in shock she replied.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She defended herself and crossed her arms defensively.

"It means you are obviously attached to him and you've barely been dating. It makes you seem clingy." Those words were what had fueled her actions that night a couple months later where she lied to her boyfriend, but at this point she had no clue that this conversation would effect her so greatly. Rachel just let out a small humph and her face almost resembled a pout.

"I'll have you know I'm not clingy. I just like him a lot," she stated as if that were obvious and anticipated Patricia's next response.

"You totally love him," Patricia said simply with a smirk and then turned back to the desk she'd been so carefully putting together her jewelry and began again. Rachel's jaw almost literally dropped at her words.

She shook her hand and scrambled to the edge of her bed to get closer to Patricia, as if that were to emphasize her point.

"I don't /love/ him," she said warily, actually doubting herself and looked at Patricia waiting to see if she would try and defend her side of the argument.

"Sure you do," Patricia said and picked her black square framed glasses off the table so she could see the small items she was working with easier. "He's the only thing you've talked about since the beginning of summer. You think every single thing about him is great. He obviously cares about you and I can tell you are a very emotional person." She said, dissecting the simple parts of Rachel she'd learned over the course of their rooming together.

"So?" Rachel questioned, urging her to continue.

"So," she said turning back around and placing her glasses on the table, getting frustrated with her activities being interrupted. "You love him," she said nonchalantly and looked at Rachel with a small smile. One of few that Rachel had ever seen from her.

"But," Rachel looked down as her legs moved over the edge of the bed, her feet now on the ground and her hands toying with the hem of her skirt. She questioned how this girl could make such an accusation, but went along with it. "I've thought I loved somebody before and that didn't work out well at all." She said still looking to the ground. Patricia sighed and pulled her feet up into the spinning chair she was sitting in.

"And so you don't think that Mike is any better than the guy you /thought/ you loved?" Patricia said like she was judging her. Rachel could feel her eyes looking at her and almost could hear her thoughts. Like they were asking her if Mike wasn't as good, why was she still with him? She didn't know why she was being so open with this girl she'd detested for almost the whole summer. She also didn't know why Patricia was even asking her questions, she'd never been interested in her before.

"No. That's not what I think at all. Mike is great and sweet and caring and fun." She said looking up finally at Patricia with a smile. "But, I don't think it feels like /actual/ love." She said shaking her head. "I mean, love is supposed to be fantastic and exciting. You fall head over heels and you want to run away and get married and be together forever. It's magical and you just can't stop thinking about them." She said dreamily and then fell back on to the bed with a wide smile.

"You've been watching too much Broadway." Patricia said simply and her hand went to her forehead like she could massage out the wrinkles that were forming there. Rachel sat up and looked at her seriously, losing her dreamy attitude.

"Now, what's /that/ supposed to mean?" She asked to which Patricia just rolled her eyes and looked back to Rachel.

"You have this crazy idea that love just happens. Like one day you see this guy and it's love at first sight, or first touch, or first kiss or whatever." Rachel's mind automatically went to Finn, that's what she had always thought. She just knew that they were meant to be, that it was love and that definitely wasn't true. Not anymore. "It's not that easy. It's about being absolutely comfortable with whoever it is. Like you are with Mike. It's about not being able to stop thinking about them, you're right about that. Like you are with Mike. It's about trusting them completely, and making sacrifices for each other. Like Mike did with you when he encouraged you to come here. And it's about not caring about the flaws in a person, because you see those things as the best part of them. Like Mike does with your confidence and those horrendous sweaters you wear." Patricia sounded too wise for her years, like she'd experienced this all in a previous life and now the knowledge was just embedded in her brain. And the fact that she'd already interpreted those things about Mike and Rachel also said a lot about her. "Love takes work, Rachel. It doesn't just happen." Rachel's mind was racing, trying to catch up with her words. She couldn't process how her heart was feeling either, thinking of Mike. Only Mike. And she chewed on her bottom lip, debating internally.

"How do you know?" Rachel said quietly, trying to help herself understand.

"Look," Patricia pulled her phone out of her pocket and after pressing a few buttons held it up to Rachel. Rachel looked at it for a short second and without even having to ask, Patricia answered her. "That's my boyfriend," she said simply. "I've known him since," she pondered for a second and then continued with a nod, leaning back into her chair. "4rth grade." Rachel's eyes must have widened in shock because Patricia couldn't help but laugh. That was a weird thing, hearing Patricia laugh when she was always so negative. "I didn't start officially dating him until last year. His parents didn't approve of me, because of, well, I think it's pretty obvious." She said pointing to one of the multiple piercing on her body. "So, we would sneak out. We wouldn't do anything. Normally it would just be going to the park and laying under the stars and just talking for hours and hours on end. Then one day his parents told him that they knew. They knew the entire time and surprisingly they weren't mad. They respected him for caring about me enough to risk getting in trouble. And we had to get past all that crap just so I could text him when I wanted to." Rachel sat awestruck as she went on about her story and they continued talking for probably any hour, the conversation ending with a bitter "this doesn't mean we're friends" from Patricia. But at that moment, when she said that Rachel realized she would do that for Mike. She would risk everything just to be with him, to talk to him, to hold his hand.

That was the moment Rachel realized she loved Mike Chang.

But, she didn't say anything for months. She waited. She held her tongue the first night they stayed in the same bed, which was the same day as their first real fight. She also hoped so many times that he would say it first. And now here they were New Year's Eve, in the middle of the park laying under the stars, waiting for the fireworks.

She snuggled close to him, her head on his chest and her arm laying lazily across his body. They had a thick blanket pulled up over them, keeping them warm despite the cold air, their body heat helping as well. They also had one under them so grass didn't stick to their clothes and follow them home.

They got there about 10, on purpose, because Rachel said she just wanted to spend time with him. They'd laid talking until their was no more time to talk and the fireworks were starting. They had talked about everything, from how last year they were both sitting on Puck's roof, wishing something would go right to what Rachel had for dinner the night before. It was comfortable and easy and those thoughts that Patricia had so freely expressed to her came rushing back.

The fireworks were bursting, filling the night sky with different swirls and explosions of colors. And they both just looked up, watching every second of it. When Mike checked his watch and there were only several minutes left until midnight Rachel looked up at him.

"What's your New Year's resolution?" She asked almost in a whisper, barely being heard over the popping of the fireworks. He'd thought about it before this night. He knew there was one thing he didn't want to do this next year, which was watch Rachel go to New York. He knew it would be hard, for the both of them, but he didn't want to stop fighting for their relationship, this balance he'd grown accustomed to. He thought for a second about last year and with just a small smile he said:

"To /not/ give up." To not give up on them until the second she stepped on the plane to New York, probably even after then he would keep going after her until she didn't want him to anymore. To not give up on what they'd grown to have in the past year. On what they would have in the future. "What about you?" He said as he heard the fireworks in quick succession, the finale beginning.

Rachel thought about how bad she just wanted to tell him those three simple words she'd already thought so many times over and over in her head. How she wanted to tell him every day that she loved him and how just to hear it said back would mean the world to her. But, she didn't seem to want to let go of her fears that he wouldn't reciprocate her feelings. That maybe he thought this was just a casual thing that had no substance to either one of them. But that wasn't the case for her.

"To give in easier," she said in a small voice looking into his eyes, wishing that were enough to convey her message to him. He broke their eye contact only to check his watch and see there was just a matter of seconds before this year was over.

"Happy New Year's, Rach," he said and leaned down to kiss her. The kiss was like any other of theirs and it caused her heart to speed up and her hand that had been lazily draped over his chest to grip the bottom of his shirt. His arm around her waist pressed to the small of her back and she felt her stomach flip with each small touch that grazed over her. Every where else people were cheering and shouting out, blowing horns and whistles, but in the park, with just the two of them, all they heard was silence.

They could hear each other's breath as they broke the kiss for just short seconds before reattaching their lips almost automatically. He easily moved over to where he was hovering above her and her free hand that was not tugging at his shirt moved up to his hair and she gladly ran her fingers through it. Mike's hand were on her waist gently and her hair was now splayed across the blanket because of the shifting she'd done. After a few minutes of that, which seemed all too short in hindsight, the kiss finally dissolved and Mike had his forehead resting against hers, still above her. Her heart was racing and she swore it would give away how nervous she was about what she was about to say. He kissed her lightly once more, knowing they had to stop here and respecting her boundaries.

He moved back over on to this spot on the blanket and she resumed her position as well, only now her hand was aimlessly tracing small circles on his shirt. She laid her head down on his chest and she swore he could hear his heart pounding harder against his rib cage and she smiled softly.

"Mike?" She questioned and kept her eyes trained on her hand that moved across his shirt clad chest and stomach. He looked down at her, expecting to see her eyes looking back at him, but they were averted and he looked back up to the sky, examining the stars again.

"Yeah, Rach?" He asked sweetly. She swore that if he hadn't heard her heart speed up before he would now, because it was drumming loudly in her ears. It was reminding her to give into this feeling, this feeling of complete emotion and trust for one single person. This feeling that she thought she'd felt before but was nowhere close. She stopped her hands and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxing.

"I love you," she whispered and breathed sigh of relief and felt her muscles relax from head to toe and this warmth come over her like she had just stepped into a Jacuzzi.

Mike couldn't say he was shocked. He was actually far from it. Back on that night in October, when he held her in his arms, something happened that he would never tell anybody. Not even Rachel. He'd waited enough time until he was sure she was asleep, her breathing pattern having changed and her body seemed to go limp in his arms, yet he still held on to her.

He couldn't sleep and he knew why. There was something he'd been dying to tell her for so long and he had to get it out somehow. He'd leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder, not an intimate spot, but the closest he could reach. He'd mumbled the three words that he now heard coming from her lips. "I love you."

So, now hearing her say it to him was like she'd lifted a weight off of his shoulders, because now he could say it whenever he wanted. Wherever he wanted to her and he wouldn't feel so nervous, because he knew she felt the same. His eyes closed and on his face spread a wide smile.

"I love you, too," he said simply and it was like Rachel's insides had all rearranged their spots and she could feel a tingling sensation on her lips at how the words felt coming out of her mouth. And her ears could hardly believed he said it back. She moved over closer to him pulling him almost into a hug, not needing to say anything else. They laid there for probably at least another half an hour before reluctantly gathering their things and going home. Who knows how many times they said, "I love you," that night but it was probably enough to last years. But, they didn't care. They were both enjoying how it sounded with Rachel or Mike, or once even their full names, tacked on the end.

They both knew they would never get tired of hearing that phrase from each other.


	14. Just Close Your Eyes

AN: This took a lot of work to get up today, but I hope you like it. (: Pretty, pretty please review. (: It's like..waaayyy off in left field and I tried my best to add some makeout stuff in there, but I have no experience in that, so I hope it still satisfied all of you. (: Let me know how to improve that in the reviews or something! :D Anyway, I really hope you like this, because I worked really hard on this chapter. Okay. Here you go.

P.S. Let's just pretend it's supposed to be on a Saturday. Works better for the story. Kthanx. (:

P.P.S. Also, you grammar Nazis, do feel free to correct me because it is currently 2:30 in the morning and I'm sure there are typos, awkward phrasing and stuff all over the place. (:

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><p>It was like any other day for a couple. Or at least it should have been. Valentine's Day is such an over done holiday for such an underestimate feeling. It was supposed to be about expressing your love for your other. But, how does chocolate and heart shaped candies convey that message? No matter how many little "Kiss Me" treats somebody eats it won't magically generate a companion for them to be with on this day that seemed so vital to couples.<p>

Rachel used to have a strong opinion about this day. She thought it gave her a fleeting glimpse into that kind of love she always thought was natural, the kind that produced that magical overwhelming sensation in her chest whenever that special guy handed her a bouquet of roses. Or, in the case of last year, a star necklace that now lay untouched in her jewelry box.

Now, Rachel had no trouble admitting that those feelings she used to have couldn't even hold a flame to how it felt when Mike kissed her. It was like she just went down a hundred feet from the top of a hill on a roller coaster and her stomach couldn't seem to stay still. Because of that, the fact that her twisted idea of love was no longer valid in her mind, she didn't know what to expect.

So, maybe she was a hopeless romantic, and she knew that the heart pounding, head reeling, palm sweating, mind clearing kind of love still existed. And with Mike it was just confirmation. But, the whole "love at first sight" was now a foreign concept in her mind. She was reminded of those feelings when she would grab Mike's hand that she knew hers fit so comfortably in or when he would kiss on her neck in that absolutely perfect way that made her want to allow him to kiss all over.

Now, this wasn't a normal feeling for Rachel. Rachel had morals, she had limits and she'd never thought of crossing those with Finn. Yeah, she let him touch the side of her breast, but it never left the skin beneath her shirt burning and aching for more as it did with Mike. Mike didn't touch her like he needed to, like he was starving for the contact. He was still gentle, in every kiss and every graze of his hand. And never expected anything more than what she felt comfortable with.

He didn't rush anything, in fact, he used to have a cute habit of asking if he could kiss her, she thought it was kind and considerate, and then he realized she always said yes. That's when she loved it more. When she wasn't expecting it and all of a sudden his lips were covering hers and she let out a small involuntary gasp that made him smile without fail. But, he still never moved too far. Their limits were unspoken and yet still understood mutually.

This in no terms meant they hadn't spent plenty of time advancing physically in their relationship. It didn't take long before Rachel's curious hands pushed under his shirt. She seemed fascinated with his chest and stomach and how each muscle felt perfectly defined under her fingers. She would feel up and down his arms, from his wrists at wherever his hands lay on her, to his biceps, enjoying the feeling of his muscles tensing and relaxing under her touch as his hands held on to her waist harder and then returned to being gentle, his thumbs pressing lazy circles above her hip bones. Their kisses were slow and comfortable, like they were trying to make each second last longer than the one before.

Multiple times recently she had ended up on top of him, her legs on either side and her hands freely roaming his bare skin as his shirt was tossed somewhere on their bedroom floor. It was new and exciting and they didn't need anything more than that. She loved how when her hand lingered on his lower stomach, the pressure against her lips increased. But, it wasn't a bad kind of pressure. Rachel never felt like she had to do anything more than what they were already doing.

In fact, she still hadn't taken her shirt off, she was too self conscious for that. Her body had never been as slim and toned as Quinn's despite her bout with pregnancy and Rachel's daily workout regime. Her breasts were nowhere near Santana's, her legs as well failing in comparison to Brittany's that were toned and lean from dancing. But, Mike respected her decisions and despite not knowing about those insecurities that caused her to hesitate, always told her how beautiful she was and how lucky he was to have her. Even when she felt like he could do better.

Mike also made it very clear that he didn't want to just spend all their time together fooling around, he cared for Rachel more than that. He wasn't going to let her think that he just liked being with her because of the physical aspect of their relationship, although he did really enjoy that. They would talk, just sit and talk a lot. Sometimes, on the weekends after a stressful week, they would fall asleep laying on her bed, her curled up against his bare chest with her ear pressed to where she could hear his heart beating rhythmically, like it had it's own tune it was beating along to.

It was easy for her to get lost in those moments. Where the hot skin of his shoulder felt like it was burning her cheek and she had to tuck her hands close to her body to keep from reaching out and tracing the perfect contour of his muscles. But, no matter how tempted she was, her strongest inclination was to lean against him and be supported by him. And that's when she felt safe . With his strong arms around her she felt like she could take on the Jabberwocky and come out alive.

With Valentine's day being on a Saturday, it gave them all day to spend with each other, and nobody said anything about it because that's what was expected. It's not like they didn't spend weekends together anyway. Mike went over to Rachel's about knew and was ushered to the basement almost immediately with just small waves to her dads who didn't even take a second glance at their daughter going into a separate room with her boyfriend. They trusted Mike and they knew their daughter and believed they were both responsible adults at this point, them graduating in a matter of months. They started off just talking, shifting on the couch and talking about school drama, Glee club, anything really. Eventually they ended up in a more comfortable place.

Their intentions weren't bad as they sat on the couch, him sitting upright with his feet propped up on the coffee table and her head on his lap, facing the television. His fingers aimlessly twirled her curls around his finger before letting it go with a small bounce as it landed back on her shoulder. Their position wasn't sexual in any meaning of the word, and nothing similar to this position had ever been on their agenda with that kind of motive. It was just tender and sweet. Calming and relaxing. The TV played some cheesy Valentine's Day Lifetime movie that Rachel wanted to watch and Mike was determined to endure.

He just focused on the girl laying beside him, not really the scenes developing on the screen. He listened to hear breathing past the droning sounds of dialogue and how she sighed whenever the couple that had been so mercilessly torn apart in the movie were suddenly reunited by a twist of fate. He knew he would never get tired of being this close to a person. Especially if that person was Rachel. She knew so much about him, things he would never tell anybody else and yet they still maintained this calm environment together, not thinking about whatever embarrassing detail or secret they knew about one another.

Somehow, when the credits started and Rachel sat up, they both looked at each other, and it was like something was on fire in both of them and in hindsight neither could explain it. She almost immediately reached forward her hands to his neck, pulling him over to a kiss as she sat on her heels on the couch. He moved over slowly, and his hands moved to her waist, pulling only slightly, just urging, not pushing and she gladly complied. She lifted a leg and put it on the other side of him, now straddling him and sitting on the tops of his thighs. From there it progressed rather rapidly.

His hands were on her, one at the small of her back, wanting her closer but not caring if she stayed exactly where she was, because this was just as good. His other hand moved up and down her back in what felt like a pattern. Rachel felt trails of heat where his hands touched her and it was almost as if he burned straight through her blouse and was grazing her bare skin. Her elbows were on his shoulders and her hands ran through his short hair, loving how it felt and how it caused him to respond. When Rachel's heart was threatening to burst out of her chest, after what felt like much too short of a time, she broke the kiss, not understanding how she always seemed to lose control of herself when she was with him.

Her breaths was quick and short, her chest lightly meeting his with each exhale and she moved to rest her head on his still clothed shoulder and his hands stopped at her hips. Her arms lazily feel behind his head, her elbows at his neck. Her skirt had been slightly pushed up as she moved forward on his lap, but he didn't dare move to help her put it back in place, they'd already gone far enough and just trying to get near anywhere covered by her skirt would be a bad idea. He reached a hand up to her bangs, gently brushing them out of the way and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She was smiling at his actions, his sweet actions that caused her heart to flutter in a different way than it had just moments earlier.

They waited, both of them trying to catch their breath and Rachel's eyes were closed in concentration. It was so easy to get carried away with each other. Sometimes it didn't make sense to her. How did he have such self control when it came to situations like this? She shook her head against his shoulder, her forehead was just above his collarbone.

"I don't get it." She breathed softly. "How do you stop? /Why/ do you stop?" She was addicted to that feeling that pooled in the bottom of her stomach and if he was even feeling half of what she was, how he managed to control himself she had know idea. She'd barely been able to detach her lips from his and it was still difficult not to just start kissing him the second she regained her composure. His hand moved up to her hair and pushed it over her shoulder, exposing her neck. His placed a gentle kiss at the base of her neck.

"Because," he kissed higher, just barely brushing his lips over her skin, causing a chill to shoot down her spine. "I," one more kiss, inching his way to her ear, his shoulder still occupied by her head. "Love you," he said placing a final kiss close to her jaw and she was smiling widely, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Have I ever told you how great you are?" She asked simply, remaining close to him. He laughed, a sound she loved to hear, and could feel his chest rumbling with the sounds before he spoke.

"You know, you can only use that line so many times," he teased, to which she pulled an arm from around his neck and hit him on the chest playfully and then left her hand there.

"Shut up," she said succinctly and her hand moved to the collar of his shirt, toying with it innocently. "I'll have you know I can use that as many times as I want to." He laughed again and then she sat up, her hands moving over his hair and her eyes trained on patting down where she'd so easily moved hairs out of place. Her heard turned to its side, looking at him like she had a question in her eyes, but she didn't say anything.

"What you thinking about, babe?" He asked quietly his eyes narrowing as he noticed that look of contemplation on her face. She sighed completely content with being this close to him. She never used to imagine herself this open and comfortable with a person, this relaxed. Her hands slowly moved from around his neck, across his shoulders and down to his hands, turning them over in her own and interlacing their fingers with ease.

"I was just wondering what we were going to do today," she said as her eyes stayed on their joined hands, watching how his thumb moved soothingly across her skin. She was sort of in a far of place, thinking about when she always used to anticipate Valentine's Day as a fuel to a relationship. With Mike, it just felt like any other day. Like it should have.

"Well, I think this is pretty nice," he said with a joking smirk and she rolled her eyes before leaning in to kiss him softly, keeping it short and sweet. After pulling away, she left her face close to his, her eyes looking from his eyes and back to his lips that she wanted to kiss so badly again.

"We have to get out of the house some time," she whispered and he nodded wordlessly in reply. She smiled softly, moving off of him and patting her skirt back in to place and smoothing it down in the process. In this moment Mike knew that what he'd told her a while ago was still very, very true. She was the only girl he knew who could pull off skirts like that. One of each of their hands stayed connected in this moment and they both sat silently. It wasn't awkward though, far from it. It was comfortable and sweet and peaceful.

This is until Mike jerked her wrist as he stood up suddenly, his head having come up with, what he thought, was a good way to spend a Saturday.

"Come on. Let's go." He said quickly as he tugged her up off the couch, a wide grin on his face. She followed him as he pulled her up the basement stairs and then they were back in her living room. Mike put a finger up to her and said:

"Wait here." Before rushing off to the other room. It was interesting to see him like this, like alight bulb had gone off over his head. She had to admit it was immensely adorable and she was already excited for what he had in mind. Mike was off telling her dads they were heading out and not to expect her back until later. By this time it was about, 3:30 and for what he had in mind, it was going to take a little while. They approved saying as long as she was back by curfew, the agreed unspoken time of one in the morning, than they saw no problem.

He got back to her and quickly grabbed her hands, beginning to lead her off again, but he was stopped by one of her small hands on his bicep, and her feet staying planted. He turned back to her.

"Where are we going?" She asked seriously and his smiled only grew, knowing she didn't care for surprises. It didn't matter, he was going to do it anyway, knowing she would be elated with the end result.

"You'll see," he said and before she could even begin to groan out his name in annoyance, he was bending over to pick her up, almost like he was hugging her knees and putting her over his shoulder. She let out a small squeak before actually responding.

"Michael Andrew Chang! You put me down right this instant or I will kick you," she yelled as he opened her front door and carefully carried her out the door as she continued to yell. "I may be small but I can kick hard! Mike! Please, you know I don't like this!" Her balled fists were pounding on his back and her hair was falling over her head as Mike carried her to his car, like her attacks weren't even affecting him. He was just wildly excited.

"Put me down! Right now! I swear to you I will personally burn all of your anime comics! Don't even try me, Michael!" She kept coming up with threats as he carried her, them only causing him to pause and laugh harder at her actions. To which she would give a well placed hit on his back causing him to straighten back up and continue walking. "Would you like me to take all of your Cds? Because I will!" She began kicking her feet as she felt herself being lowered to the ground and as he was standing back up she crossed her arms and glared at him. .

"Come on, lighten up," he said reaching his hand up to push her hair out of her face as it was now awry and she would definitely have to fix that in the car. She looked down, his hand dropping from her face as she tried not to smile, he was too good at distracting her from her intentions.

"Just get in the car," she said quietly, looking at him, her face breaking into a smile. He walked around and hopped the passenger door for her to get in. He closed it and got in on his respective side and as he was driving, keeping his eyes forward he talked to her. She already had the visor flipped down and was combing through her hair with her fingers, fixing it and putting her headband back in.

"Okay, I want you to close your eyes, okay? I don't want you to see where we're going. But, it's going to take a little while to get there. They don't exactly have a kar-" Mike cut off his words abruptly as he almost accidentally said where they were going. He was never good at keeping secrets anyway, which is why they worked so well together, because she never had to worry about being surprised. "Just close your eyes." He said quickly and she sighed heavily, as if it were a huge burden to close her eyes. She put her elbow on the console and held her hand out, not being able to lean over and grab his due to a lack of vision. Mike happily reached over and took her hand in his as he drove. He trusted Rachel not to peek as he drove, but he worried about her getting bored on the way. He reached over with his free hand and turned on the radio. She started humming along and didn't realize she was tired until she feel asleep on his arm, her hand still clasping his.

It made him happy, feeling her weight against him. One, he knew she definitely wouldn't know where they were going and two, it was just a nice feeling her lean on him. Feeling her needing him to keep her up. It was about 2 hours before they got there. It was definitely out of town but, god, he hoped that she liked it. They pulled up and he unbuckled carefully, trying not to move his arm and wake her. He looked around the car for something to cover her eyes.

In the back he spotted a scarf, he had never noticed it there before, but, when he did he remembered exactly what it was from. Just back in January they had been in his car and he was messing around with Rachel, pulling her scarf from around her neck and holding it over his head and behind him so she couldn't reached it. She'd easily climbed over the divided between the seats and so he dropped the scarf into the back seat and pulled her into a kiss instead. It was short and not really that big of a deal, but it was big enough for both of them to have completely forgotten the source of their conflict in the first place.

It didn't really matter now, he awkwardly adjusted so he could reach into the bag and grab it. He gently moved his arm only slightly, and she stirred and he took that as a chance to pull his arm gently from hers, at least while she was coherent. He then moved to wrap the strip of cotton material around her eyes. Just when he finished tying the loose knot, that he knew would stay in place but wouldn't be too tight, she sat up quickly.

"Mike? Where are we? How long was I asleep for? Why do I have this-" She mumbled and reached her hands up to the tie and tried to start loosening it.

"Rach, stop. Stop," He said reaching over and grabbing both of her hands and pulling them down to where they were resting in her lap. "You were asleep for about an hour and a half. You have this on," He reached one hand up to tug on the scarf. "Because, I'm trying to surprise you. So, just, go along with it okay. Just this once?" He knew that if she hadn't had the scarf on she would be rolling her eyes right about now, but the release of the tension in her shoulders and her silence were signs to him to just get it over with. "Thanks," he said and leaned over to kiss her cheek before getting out of his side of the car. He walked around quickly, almost at a jog. He opened her door, and then leaned over her to unbuckle her seatbelt. She put a hand out to which he grabbed and helped her step out of the car without injury.

When she got out, he put both hands on her shoulders from behind and began walking her forward, hushed warnings being mumbled to her as they were walking to, well, wherever they were going. She knew they made it through a door as she felt the change in temperature as well as the sound around her increase greatly. One voice above the others, singing a badly formed rendition of some various Journey song.

"Oh, god, Mike. Where are we?" She asked almost scared, hearing the voice crack. "Is this some kind of torture?" She said softly as she heard what she knew was a man, continue singing off key. She shuddered and Mike just chuckled.

"Nope," he said simply as his hands worked on the knot tied at her hair. He undid it quickly and as she heard cheers for this man that obviously didn't know what music was, she was more than happy when he pulled the scarf from covering her eyes. It took her a second to adjust to the lighting and just as the scene was coming into focus she heard Mike's voice in a panic coming from behind her.

"Karaoke bar." He said. "Well, not actually a bar. They don't have alcohol. It's really more of a place for minors to hang out. Sing some bad songs. You know, have fun." He rambled on as she looked around seeing that who she thought was a grown man, was actually just a teenager with an unnaturally deep voice. Scattered throughout the place were other people, ranging from freshmen in high school to freshmen in college. "I thought maybe you'd like to relax. You know, not be focusing on Nationals or whatever. You could just sing whatever you want, however you want. And I mean, I could listen to you sing, I like to hear you sing." She had turned around while he was talking and he was now looking to the ground, embarrassed that he couldn't really control what his mouth was spouting off right now.

"I love you, Mike," she said and was beaming brightly as she stood up on her toes to kiss him gently. It was a short kiss, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. "This is perfect. I love it. I don't even know how you knew about a place like this," she continued and he opened his mouth again to start talking, but she was sure if she allowed him to do that, she would have no idea when he would stop. "And I really don't care." His mouth snapped shut. "But, you're right. I could use some time to relax. /We/ could use some time to relax." She smiled and took his hand. "Come on," she said and started leading him to a table. As they were walking she heard him mumble something under his breath, but she couldn't quite decipher it.

"What?" She said turning around and looking at him with a raised eyebrow, curious as to what exactly he didn't feel the need to say out loud. He averted his eyes and took a deep breath before replying.

"I said, "I love you, too." Don't think you can get away with saying that and not giving me time to tell you." He said as her looked back to her with small smile and she returned it with just as much brightness, pulling him into a hug and then stepping away, nodding towards the stage that was now empty.

"You pick the first song." She said and he leaned down to say close to her. "Only if you'll sing it with me." She chewed her lips as if she were actually contemplating not singing with her boyfriend and then laughed lightly before nodding.

"Sounds perfect."


	15. We Made It

AN: So, this is the graduation chapter but **not** the last chapter. (: I didn't want to deal with transferring students, and different grade levels, so to make it easy, they are all seniors now and since the end of junior year, nobody move. Haha (: So, I hate to do this to you guys, but I feel like a lot I'm writing this for like…4 people. So, I would like to ask for 20 reviews before I update again! I know you can do, plenty of you have the story on alert, so it would just take a few minutes to type in a quick little review. Thank you so much! :D Anywho, enjoy! (:

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><p>The year went by faster than anybody expected. But, nobody would have changed a thing. It wasn't easy all the time and not everybody always got along, especially within the Glee club. But, they all knew they would miss it. They would miss the competition, the rehearsal, the late nights that kept them all anticipating success. And even though they tolerated it over the past few years, they would miss Journey and any other 80's band Mr. Schue liked to add to their repertoire. They learned what it meant to have friends who would be there with you through everything.<p>

Rachel and Mike's year anniversary had passed fairly uneventfully. Most would have made a big deal about it and gone all out, but they didn't. And there was a time when Rachel thought they maybe now Mike would expect sex from her, just because they'd been together so long. And she knew him and Tina had no problem in that department. But, it didn't happen. They stayed in all day, watching Disney movies, laughing and just laying together on the couch. Murmuring, "I love you" whenever they pleased. It was easy and fun. Rachel couldn't believe it had already been a year.

And now it was that time.

Time for them to all graduate and go off and pursue careers, whether they be across the globe or just on the other side of town. And here they were in the gym, the gym that held so many performances, hosted all the school dances since they were freshman and now it was their graduation. It was a fairly small school, so they could get away with it and not have to rent out a space for the ceremony, like they would have the funds to anyway.

People were arriving in packs, an abundance of family being tagged along with their graduate wearing the bright red gown that defined them now. Mike's mom and dad were with him, them driving in their own cars in case Mike wanted to do something afterwards. Rachel was accompanied by her fathers and when both teens arrived they immediately found each other outside the school, like magnets attracted to each. Their parents also joined each other, talking casually and smiling, tears already forming in their eyes. Their kids were viewed, at least in the public eye, as adults after today. Then, after this they're expected to go off to college, move out, get married, have kids. Not all at once, of course. But, all too soon.

Mike had immediately pulled Rachel into a hug when he found her. Not wanting to ever let go, but knowing all too soon they would be lining up to cross the stage. They pulled back only slightly, leaving their red fabric draped arms around each other. He smiled widely.

"You look good in red," he said teasingly and gave her a short kiss, neither had their caps on yet so that was a particularly easy task. They would retrieve them from their parents before they got in their places. Rachel grinned in return, reaching a hand up to fix the way his tie looked past the collar of his gown. She was always doing that, fixing things on him, adjusting things. It was just small habits they'd both grown accustomed to. Like, next when she reached a hand up to push his hair in the right direction.

"You ready?" She asked softly, her hand wandering back to his neck. He let out a big shaky breath, revealing his nervousness to her and her hand slowly moved up and down on his neck, trying to keep him calm.

"As I'll ever be," he replied just as quietly, keeping this moment just between the two of them, knowing if they were to talk louder their parents would probably overhear. It wasn't anything he was keeping from them, it's just he liked these moments. When it felt like Rachel in him were the only two people in the world. "You know, the sooner we go inside, the sooner we get away from them," He nodded his head in the direction of their parents, who his back was to.

"I like the sound of that," she grinned and then looked over his shoulder to see his mom already crying. Her smile dropped to a serious expression and she looked back to Mike. "Come on," she said in almost a whisper, dropping her hands from his neck and pulling one off her waist so that she could drag him back to the adults. Mrs. Chang was now wiping her cheeks as the couple walked over, trying to keep a smile.

"You two going in now?" She asked with a sudden cheeriness, trying to keep from her son that she was already having a hard time with her baby graduating. He noticed her actions and not having seen his mom like this before sort of took him off guard, so he just nodded.

"Okay, sweety, here you go," she said pulling his cap from under her arm and pushing his shoulder down so he would bend his knees and she could put the cap on the top of his head correctly, fixing the tassle so it was appropriately laying on it. Rachel received her cap as well, one of her fathers holding her compact up for her so she could use the small mirror to be able to fix her hair and make sure it was all in place. They were more exchanges of, "See you inside" and handshakes from Mike to her fathers and hugs from Rachel to his parents.

Then Mike noticed something before they turned to walk away. His mom was leaning against his dad, it looking like she need him just to stand. His arm was hanging at his side, her near hand intertwining their fingers and her other reaching across her body to hold on to his wrist, those fingers pressing into the cuff of his dress shirt. Her head was over on his shoulder. It looked familiar, oddly familiar.

Like when Rachel and him were standing in Glee club and Rachel was tired of her ideas being shot down, she'd let a few tears slip down her face and she leaned on him like that. When they were hanging out in the hall, talking to Artie, Puck, Brittany, whoever it may be and a football player in his letterman would come down the hall her eyes would widen in fear of a slushie and she leaned on him like that. When they went to the karaoke "bar" and she almost fell off the stage she was laughing so hard at his version of a Taylor Swift song, she desperately reached for his hand and she leaned on him like that. When she was scared that she didn't get the lead role in the community theatre production, she walked up to the cast list and squeezed her eyes shut, saying, "Just tell me," and she leaned on him like that. Like she needed him just to stand.

They got to where they were told to wait and didn't realize how rushed everything was. When they joined the rest of the graduates they barely had time to say, "See you later," with a small kiss as a departing gesture. They were immediately ushered to their appropriate places, not being separated by a gargantuan amount, because their last names were fairly close to each, but enough to make them miss the consistent contact with each other.

Rachel was nervous to say the least. She'd been looking forward to these moments since she was a little girl, but she never imagined being in the position she was in. She always dreamed of graduating and running straight off to New York, but she'd really never taken into account that she could be in a serious relationship at the same time. She loved Mike, she really did and knew that he loved her too, but she couldn't give up on her dreams of Broadway. She just never realized she would be leaving something behind that was so great. That made her so happy.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when people started walking forward and she realized this was actually happening, she was actually about to be officially done with high school and that was really scary. High school lulls you into that false sense of security and stability, you have the same classes, walk the same halls for four years and then they shove you into reality which couldn't be farther from those routines.

They walked into the gym that, really, when utilized was all they needed for the event. They filed into their seats and the ceremony proceeded, the anthem being sung by none other than Mike's beautiful girlfriend, Rachel Berry. It was a simple version, not trying to show off or anything, just follow tradition. There was a short introduction from Principal Figgins that including warnings of turning off cellphones, no alcoholic beverages and that everybody, "Enjoy the ceremony." With that he walked off to the side of the stage, sitting down.

Everybody was highly confused. He hadn't announced anything next, there was no other person walking to the mic. Their were hushed whispers across the crowd, yet there were thirteen graduates who sat relatively calm in their seats as the opening chords of a song began to play over the speakers. The whispering ceased and a few people in the crowd noticed the simple beginnings and clapped their hands a few times in encouragement. It was almost perfect, just as the crowd quieted the singing began of the thirteen members of the Glee club.

_525,600 minutes. _

They all remained seated, singing to their full potential as their fellow classmates looked around, spotting who was behind this, some smiling fondly while others scoffed.

_525, 000 moments so dear. _

One lone student stood up on her chair. Her brunette hair falling softly over her shoulders and her trademark smile on her face. Rachel Berry.

_525, 600 minutes._

Another student stood on his own chair, a tall awkward looking male. A goofy grin on his face and his hands hanging at this sides. Finn Hudson.

_How do you measure,_

Now another brunette. Actually, her hair could probably be classified as black and her skin tan as well. Her thin frame hopped up on to her chair despite the length of her heels. Santana Lopez.

_Measure a year?_

Another ex-cheerio stood. Blonde flirty and bubbling with small giggles as she held on to an offered hand of a male beside her to help herself up. Her heels clicked as they hit the plastic chair as well. Brittany S. Pierce.

_In daylights_

The students were now rising out of their chairs faster, seeing as their cues were close together. At this part a blonde guy stood up. Athletic build and Justin Beiberesque hair. Samuel Evans.

_In sunsets_

Instead of standing the wheelchair bound boy was already at the base of the ramp by the stage and on this line, rolled up on to the stage in one swift movement, causing eyes to be directed at him and his glasses and wide grin. Artie Abrams.

_In midnights_

An Asian girl with dark hair as well, stood and her appearance was different than the rest, her dark makeup lining her eyes, but her smile still as bright as the rest of them. Tina Cohen-Chang

_And cups of coffee_

A very well known student stood, his dark hair resembling the shades of some of his friends and his designer shoes lightly hitting the chair with his swift moment as he stood up on it. Deeming this line perfect for him to join in due to his abundance of coffee dates with his steady cross town boyfriend. Kurt Hummel.

_In inches_

A blonde prone to have more of an attitude stood now, most of her shorter blonde hair covered by her cap, she decided to keep it cut that way for senior year. She claimed it made her look more mature and nobody disagreed. Quinn Fabray

_In miles _

Almost square shaped glasses framed this girl's eyes. She wore a confident smirk as she stood on her own chair, using the shoulder's of unwilling neighbors to do so. Lauren Zizes.

_In laughter _

Now was turn for the other diva of the group. She flipped her hair and place both of her hands on her hips and stood up on her chair. Mercedes Jones.

_In strife_

The signature bad boy. He stood up and ran his hand over his Mohawk, flashing a wink to the nearest Cheerio he saw. Noah Puckerman.

_In 525,600 minutes. _

The last was a familiar dark haired boy and with a glance to his girlfriend he stood up on his chair. While standing he spun on his heels in place, having practiced this small move multiple times at home as well as in Glee rehearsal. Michael Chang.

_How do you measure a year in the life. _

All the members of New Directions were now standing their faces beaming with excitement as nobody had seen this coming. There a few random cheers throughout the crowd as the song continued.

_How about_

And with a well time and well rehearsed jump, all the singing students feet hit the ground at the same time in a small pause in the song and it went without out a hitch. They broke off into their harmonies, the guys and the girls each taking a part as they made their way to the front to join Artie on the stage.

_Love_

They repeated that line 3 more times, only ceasing their steps at that same pause in the music, raising their hands to clap and then resume to the stage. By the time they were singing the song title they were standing on the stage, resembling the cast of the Broadway production itself, and they all were facing their classmates.

_Seasons of love_

The song continued, Mercedes taking the female solo and Puck taking the male, the Glee club decided it suited their voices the best. The song ended with some tears in graduating Cheerio's eyes, the AV club and some of the chess team even showing some of the same emotion. Their senior year was actually over. This year filled with sleepless nights and break ups and make ups. It was gone.

New Directions walked off the stage, a few of the guys clapping Artie on the back as he rolled up to a microphone that had been lowered to a better height for him. They sat back down in their assigned seats and watched as their friend took a deep breath on stage, preparing himself for this moment. He didn't have to be introduced because every body had practically known since freshman year that he was going to be valedictorian. The schedule of the graduation was a little unconventional but it worked.

"Wow," he breathed into the microphone nervously and then laughed at his actions. He'd spoke in public before and he tried to make it feel like this time wasn't any different than the others. But, it definitely was.

"I can't believe I'm here. I've worked all high school to get to this spot, to be valedictorian. And I've wanted to make this speech for as long as I can remember. But now that I'm here, and I know what happens after I finish talking. I don't want to make this speech. " He smiled sadly and shrugged his shoulders "Here goes nothing."

He pulled a piece of paper out and unfolded it and then started to read, with glances up to the crowd a good speech habit he'd learned. "I can honestly say high school has been the best 4 years of my life. We've all met people we will never forget and learned things that will never leave us. This year, specifically for me, has been all that I could have hoped for. New Directions won Nationals." he said happily which caused Mike stand up by himself and start clapping and whooping. He received some laughs and shushes from Rachel, but when he sat back down his ultimate goal was achieved as Artie now looked more relaxed on stage.

"I'm going to MIT, I'm leaving Lima. We all are leaving this…" Artie faltered on this part of his speech. He'd wrote it down when he wasn't thinking clearly. Or maybe he was thinking too clearly and that was the problem. He really didn't think he'd have the balls to say it, but at this moment there was nothing else he could think of. "Excuse me Principal Figgins," He apologized in advance and then move closer to the microphone so his words echoed throughout the gym. "This hell hole," he grinned as a chorus of laughter erupted from the graduates and only in Lima could you get away with something like that.

But, the speech was true to Artie and that's what everybody liked about it. "But, this isn't where it ends. We've made relationships here that could last a lifetime. We've become adults, how crazy is that? It seems like yesterday I was rolling through the front doors and having slushies thrown at me." It was something they could joke about now. See, at the beginning of the new year, an ex-cheerio made a promise to herself and she was a committed girl. So when this same girl, one of the most popular girls in school, Santana Lopez, came out of the closet, the bullying had died down dramatically. She wouldn't tolerate being slushied and derogatory terms being yelled at her in the hall and was proud of who she was and that meant nobody got bullied, at least if they were in Glee club.

"We leave this school, to go on to more school and more school. But, then we get jobs and start careers. We keep learning for the rest of our lives, even when we aren't sitting at a desk. We may lose touch, but then, we may not. Some high school sweet hearts may get married," And glance is exchanged between Mike and Rachel and a blush spreads over Rachel's cheeks, face, and neck.

To say the thought had crossed her mind before was an understatement. She could see them in New York together, the thought actually being imaginable for her. She never thought that way with Finn, she couldn't even see him functioning there and Puck was never a practical option, it was just a fling. Jesse and her had already decided they were too alike for their own good and she knew, though she might run into him in New York, nothing like marriage would ever cross her mind in relation.

Mike's thoughts on the other hand were scattered and confused, the harsh reality hitting him in the face again like it had almost a year earlier when she spent her time in New York, him knowing he was going to have to let her go one day. He hadn't thought about that in awhile and it hurt knowing that soon they would have to confront that conflict. So she could pursue her career that he had no place in. Their thoughts continued to reel as Artie continued to speak and they looked back up to the stage.

"And others won't, but that doesn't mean we can't all come back together for our high school reunion and party it up." Yup. That was definitely the same Artie they all loved. " People tell us that now we are going to face the real world and honestly, that scares the hell out of me." More laughs all around and everybody could tell Artie was trying to keep the attitude light and the ceremony positive, not hitting the topics like living in a college dorm off of Ramen Noodles and Easy Mac. Or, the always possible option of still living with your parents.

"Here at William McKinley High, I've learned what it means to be a good friend. A good boyfriend, and a good person." Artie starts choking up and you can tell it's hard for him to keep his face even as he finishes, him to only one knowing that he's at the end of this flimsy piece of paper in his hand. But, he's determined not to cry so he doesn't. He crumbled the paper up into a tight fist and his face is strained, and it's now obvious the next words were obviously not scripted, him planning on leaving the speech at how he had changed, but now he couldn't seem to do it.

"I really, don't want to leave," he said and laughed at himself with no response from the rest of the gym, everybody noticing how emotional he's getting. "But, I have to," he's not looking out into the crowd anymore he's looking down at the ground in front of him, not caring if he was being a horrible presenter at this point. "Umm, I'll miss you guys," he said quickly and then rolled away from the microphone with loud claps and cheers from all of the gym, everybody ready to hear what they've been waiting for all day.

The ceremony continued the graduate's names being called one by one. With Rachel's name, her two very proud fathers stood up, clapping wildly, one desperately trying to take pictures of this moment. With Mike's name his dad stood up, proudly proclaiming, "That's my son!" Before looking down to his mom and then back up to him on stage. It was a proud moment for everybody.

After a few more words of encouragement from administration and it was almost that time. People, mostly the seniors, were shifting in their seats out of anxiety. Principal Figgins walked up to the mic once more and with a nod. "Graduates please stand." Everybody knew what was coming and cheers erupted from all around, continuing for a couple minutes before quieting down. "All of these seniors have completed the requirements to receive a diploma." He gave a smile and some people groaned, everybody already knew this stuff and were hoping he would just get along with it.

"You may move your tassles," he said and there was another outburst of clapping and hollering, showing their excitement. After people had stopped moved and things were silent he spoke again. "It is my honor to present William McKinley High School's graduating class of 2012." Blurs of read were thrown into the air and fell back down with no people to catch or retrieve them. It got loud extremely fast. People cheering and others pushing their way through the crowd, talking to their friends and trying to find their family.

Mike immediately walked to Rachel and pulled her into his arms, seeing the small tears in the corner of her eyes. She held on to him tightly and he kissed the top of her head, his hand moving over her hair gently. All he had to say was three words and she felt herself smile. No. It wasn't **those **three words. He moved close to her ear and whispered:

"We made it."


	16. We Can Work It Out

AN: So, this is much shorter than my other's have been, but I have a lot harder time writing stuff like this than I do other stuff. :P So, I really hope you enjoy it and yeah…anyway here you go. (: This is my first attempt at some real drama/sad stuff, so please be kind. Umm, I'm sorry it took so long, this past couple weeks have been my first of school and was slammed way harder than I thought I would be. Anywhere, it's here now. (:

P.S. So, I didn't get all of the reviews I wanted, but I got more than I usually do and that makes me very happy. (: So, please, keep up the reviews! :D I would like…15 this time? (: I think that's very reasonable.

P.P.S. Okay, I lied, I didn't post this because I felt like crap when writing it and I couldn't seem to tweak it just how I wanted to. I feel like it's not going to live up to the emotions that I wanted, but…it doesn't matter, anyway. Yeah, here you go.

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><p>It was about a week after graduation and it was just any other day as adults. Mike had kept his job at the coffee shop up until now, it had earned him his car, and he basically owed his entire relationship with Rachel to that building. It wasn't necessarily obvious to him, but the coffee shop meant a lot more than some high school part time job. But that didn't matter, he quit. He was still on good terms with his boss, it just made more sense knowing he would be tossed in to full time school when the next semester started. He actually wanted to enjoy his last time off before "the real world."<p>

It was a rather habitual day. Mike and Rachel just started walking that afternoon. They didn't really know where they were walking to or when they were getting back they were just enjoying being together. It was easy and when they reached a corner all it would take was a simple nod either left or right or the press of hand to a side and then they were turning in that direction, steps not hesitating and hands still clasped together. They had done this plenty of times before, but some reason this felt off. They had been talking and then there was a silence, one that neither knew how to fill. They had made there way to a local park, walking on the solid pavement.

Mike's mind had been completely full and distracted from the second they he saw her. She was leaving soon and he wasn't sure exactly when. They hadn't addressed it since the day they graduated. She had mentioned leaving in a side conversation when both of their families went out to eat together at BreadStix and he couldn't really talk deeply about it then, because his mom had picked up on a conversation that was about musicals and Broadway, a conversation which Rachel easily latched on to as well. And now it seemed so much more real than it was months ago when she was actually in New York. Because, he knew she would leave with no intention of ever returning to Lima.

He opened his mouth to start tackling this subject, but before he knew it, her hand was no longer in his. She was a few steps ahead of him before he realized she was running, her hair whipping behind her, skirt flying up wildly, something he couldn't help but notice, and flats hitting on the concrete with small patters as her pace increased. He kept walking, wondering if she even knew he wasn't following her yet. Apparently she did.

She turned around and slowed to a walk, backpedaling while a decent distance away from him, but one he knew he could make up. He was in football, so he had some speed on him. She arched one of her highly expressive eyebrows and grinned. "What? Am I not worth chasing?" She teased with a mischievous smile. He rolled his eyes and the moment she saw him rock back on his heels to run forward she had turned and burst into a full sprint. Now, Rachel had legs that were fairly shorter than Mike's so when he started running, she knew there was really no hope. But, that's what was always fun about it. Knowing she would eventually get caught.

And she did, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind, picking her up. She started kicking instinctively and her palms were hitting his forearms that were holding her middle tightly. All the while laughing and complaining. "Mike!" Just because she knew she was going to get caught doesn't mean she was going to go willingly. He carried her off the path, despite her best efforts and pulled her down on to a soft spot of grass.

"Please don't yell, people are going to think I'm kidnapping you," he said while laughing as he fell down beside her, his arm around her waist as she laid on her back. His elbow was on the grass by her head and his own head propped up on his hand. She laughed and shook her head, knowing there weren't many people around anyway.

"You think they would believe that I enjoy kissing my captors?" She asked before, tugging on his shirt and sitting up slightly, bringing him closer as well and meeting their lips for a short second. "Because I don't." She said with a grin, her eyes dropping to his lips, causing a smirk to spread on them. He could tell she wasn't looking him in the eyes, it was sort of this unspoken thing when she did that, almost as approval for him to kiss her again. So he did.

"Come on." He said softly against her lips before standing up and reaching a hand out to pull her up with him. She gladly took his hand and kept it there as she smoothed down her skirt and ran her fingers through her curls, hoping to get any grass out. He helped by reaching over and picking out pieces that caused her hair to look awry. Once she did a small turn asking if she looked okay and he replied with a "Perfect," they started walking again, her leaning against him a little more than she had before and just looking at everything. Everything that would be gone from her in just a short matter of time. Everything she would miss, even though for so many years she couldn't wait to get away from it.

Mike attempted to start again, squeezing her hand slightly as he did so she couldn't run off mid-sentence even if she wanted to. He looked down to the ground and swallowed nervously. She seemed to be able to tell there was something wrong, and her eyes kept from meeting his, looking to their joined hands to see where he had just held on to her tighter.

"So," He started quietly and almost in a whisper. Not wanting to sound like a total wimp, he tried again. "So," Much better. "When are you leaving for New York?" He said watching the lines of the sidewalk pass under his feet. His wording sort of surprised her. Okay, no, it really surprised her.

_When are __**you**__ leaving for New York? _

Not when are we. And that was the one thing that she didn't like about that question. She didn't know why, but she just automatically assumed that over the past few months Mike would now be coming with her. Somewhere in their relationship she'd thought they'd decided, without even having to say anything, that wherever one went the other would follow. Maybe the thought was too perfect, too unrealistic. He had quit his job and maybe she was wrong in assuming that it was so he could find another in New York. But, he had really never specified. This was one of the few topics they hadn't covered in their conversations. Why had she not taken the time to ask? And confirmed her ideas? Or, in this case, refute them.

Her feet had stopped under her without even thinking and she felt like she'd been punched in the chest and all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She swore she could feel the liquid sloshing in her ears that helped maintain her equilibrium, that if she were to take another dizzying step forward, her cheek would be meeting concrete. She chewed her lip raw and her hand flew up to where a necklace used to rest on her sternum. Her fingers met bare skin where the cold piece of metal used to lay on her. It was no longer there, she had shed that a long time ago. She used to need it for comfort, her hands running over the same small piece of jewelry and chain. It was soothing. Then, she had Mike. She didn't need that action anymore. Now, she missed it desperately, because not only did Mike not seem like enough to comfort her, it was he that was causing this need in the first place.

He was looking at her concerned, his jaw dropped slightly in shock that she'd stopped walking so abruptly. So, maybe now wasn't the right time to talk about this. Her face looked…scared. He didn't like that at all. Her eyes looked empty as she looked off in front of them on the sidewalk, seeming to zone in on one area."You aren't going with me, are you?" She whispered softly, feeling the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. She'd cried enough in her life, acted and natural, so this wasn't strange to her in the slightest. Especially crying in front of Mike, she'd done her fair share of that as well. At sad movies, when she didn't get a part she auditioned for, plenty of things, but this wasn't the same.

At her words he realized that she thought maybe they could go together. That he could pack up and leave everything here just as easily as she could. And that wasn't possible. At least, he didn't believe so. Why hadn't they talked about this earlier? Maybe it wouldn't hurt as bad? Maybe he wouldn't feel that sinking feeling in his chest, like he'd just swallowed an anvil. Like it was dragging his heart all the way down to his toes and he had this empty cavern of a ribcage.

"Rach, I, you know that's not where I need to be, that's where _you _belong" he said gently and turned to face her. His hand moved to brush the small bit of hair out of her face and he left his hand in that familiar position. "But," _I belong with you_, is what she wanted to add. How cheesy would that be? She would say her words, weak and soft and then he would pull her into a kiss, swear the he would never leave her and the music would crescendo, fireworks would burst into the sky and people would come out of their houses cheering them on, because they had a love worth fighting for.

Or did they?

There was only silence that settled in her ears. Only the so

She felt like she been hit straight through the heart and there was now a gaping hole, one the size of a grapefuit or larger and that with his words he'd taken that part of her heart that she'd so freely given to him before. Now it just felt stolen, like he'd thieved her and wrenched it out of her chest, even if that wasn't his intentions, and she knew he would never return it even if he wanted to.

"Why not? Why can't you belong there too?" She'd instinctively stepped into him and her hands were toying with the hem of his shirt and she was looking to the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes and see what they held. She had to at least ask him why he couldn't there had to be an explanation.

"I belong here. My family is here. My friends are here. I already got into colleges here. I thought we knew this was inevitable. Didn't we?" He said with a strangled tone. His words were being pushed out by his diaphragm in a forced action, one that took all his efforts. They were being pulled out of his throat by some invisible line and he was choking on them, them not coming out sounding like his voice at all.

Oh right, he actually had friends here. As much as Rachel had grown accustomed to the New Directions environment, the only people she was even close to were Mercedes, Kurt, and Mike. And Kurt was going to New York as well. Rachel could easily leave her parents, because they were pushing her in that direction, encouraging her. That had since birth. She had no idea if Mike would have that same kind of support. And college. He couldn't just leave the college that he'd got accepted to. Be she swore she helped him fill out an application for Julliard. And she also remembered an acceptance letter alarmingly similar to hers laying around his house. So, why couldn't he do that? Although, he had never told her about that. She had just silently celebrated after seeing it on his dining room table. And it sort of slipped her mind that he had never actually told her.

He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to let her go off to New York, to guys that would be begging for her attention. To busy cities that would be full of new people. To the stage where she would be able to show off her talents every night if she chose to. But, he knew that's what she needed. He still wanted to be with her, love her, keep her as his own and be with her. Just because they were seperated by time and miles, didn't mean they couldn't be together, right?

She'd known, had she been dating Finn or Puck right now, or anybody else for that matter, she would have easily left them. It wouldn't have been a second thought in her mind. She could see them staying behind and starting families, but Mike, Mike was different. She saw Mike living with her, in an apartment in New York. He could do dance, what he always wanted to do and she could be on Broadway. They'd be like, the power couple. She couldn't feasibly imagine Mike staying around in this Podunk town to waste his talents. She didn't even realize before it was too late that she was crying. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was looking at Mike, shaking her head just the smallest amount so that he could comprehend it was a denial. Denial of ever believing that being separated was an option. His thumb gently moved on her cheeks, wiping them away as they fell.

"I want to be with you, Rach. But, your dreams are bigger than here and I can't leave. Not yet. You can do everything you ever wanted if you just go for it. I'm not that lucky. Or anywhere near as talented." She pulled him in to a tight hug, wondering if this was the last time she would be doing this and knowing he was lying. He was amazingly talented, he could pursue whatever dance career he wanted to in New York. But, maybe that just wasn't him. She'd never known for sure. Maybe he didn't want the busy city life kind of future. Maybe, he wanted to settle with…Tina or something. She just wanted to scream at the thought of him with somebody else. Yell at the top of her lungs, no particular words or phrases. Let the noises vibrate in her throat that seemed to burn with anger.

"We can try long distance." He suggested with a sliver of hope. "I can call all the time. Text. We can web chat." Mike offered with a weak smile when he moved out of the hug to look at her. They could make it work, for, however long they needed to. They loved each other enough, right? She didn't even bother to wipe her eyes anymore and she just shook her head, her expression distressed.

"I can't do that, Mike." She whispered and that's when the crack in Mike's heart became a giant split right down the middle. One part falling to the ground and the other hanging on by arteries in his chest. So, he wouldn't be able to be with her all the time, and they couldn't live together, work together, but the could still love each other.

But, that was never an option for her. She didn't want to be in the way. Some girl in New York that was hardly tangible to anybody here and he would have to deal with that. She would be keeping him from a regular life, where he could go on dates, party all the time, things you were supposed to do in collge. This was more than just going to some high school costume party that she felt like she would be keeping him from. It was his future. What he was supposed to do with his life.

Along with that, she couldn't deal with not being able to have him and be able to hold him and kiss him. She couldn't deal with having the label, and being tied to somebody that she couldn't even touch. And he was sure he had to feel similarly. She looked at him, hoping he could see her intentions without words.

"But, Rach, we can work it out. We can. _I can," What really could he do? It seemed like nothing. She was backing out of his touch, shaking her head some more. She couldn't do that to him. She couldn't do that to herself. She turned on her heels to walk away, walk away and never look back. Then she heard him mumble something and she paused._

"_What?" She whispered hoarsely and turned to face him again, letting herself look at him one last time and take in the way that shirt fell over his muscles that she spent so much time exploring. They his cut hair hung on his forehead and the way he stood, looking confident, but in this moment, very weak._

"_I said, "I love you." He said gently, looking her straight in the eyes and she squeezed them shut, not being able to handle that direct phrase that she was supposed to reciprocate. And she couldn't. Without saying another word, she turned and left, walking along the path they'd walked together, leaving him standing there alone. She couldn't control the tears, she wasn't even going to try._


	17. I'm So Sorry

A/N: Yeah, I'm crazy, I know. Two times in so soon? What? Yeah, I felt like I needed to make up the past couple weeks to you guys, so here you go. Umm, I dabbled a little more in the…making out, kissing, stuff this time. Trying to attempt a bunch of different kinds of writing in this one story. ANYWAY. Hope you love it. If you do, tell me. If you don't, tell me. (:

To be honest, I cried when I wrote this. I just...don't like seeing my two favorite characters heartbroken, but I feel like it...needed to be done. Anyway, hope you enjoy, I'm pretty sure this is one of the longest things I've ever wrote. I'm really nervous about this so pretty pretty please review. :)

Edit:

I have mixed feelings right at this moment. I would like to thank _**ncar08 **_because they suggested a song people should listen to while reading this chapter. I read the note attached and didn't think I would be affected as much as I was. Ohmygod. I was wrong. I cried like a baby, and it definitely helped get across some of the emotions I was trying to convey in this chapter. So, _**ncar08**_, I love you for suggesting the song. Because, it's perfect. And I also hate you for making me cry. So, the song is Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars. :) Go ahead and try it for yourself. :)

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><p>It was stupid.<p>

God, he knew it was stupid. He talked to her dads. He couldn't help it. And now that he knew when she was leaving, he couldn't stay at home knowing he might never see her again. He couldn't.

He didn't.

She was leaving the next day. How could he let her go without one last goodbye? One last conversation? Just seeing her one more time?

He walked to her house instead of drove, taking his time in contemplating whether or not he was making the right decision. He got to the front of her house and stopped dead in his tracks. The lights were off and looking how still everything was, the house, the night around him, the trees, it was hard to believe people actually occupied this property. But, he knew up in that top corner room Rachel would be sleeping, gorgeous as ever and her suitcases would be sitting at the front door. Packed and ready to be carted off.

Before he could control his actions he was scaling the tree by her window. He'd never done this before, not matter how convenient it would have been to sneak into her room whenever he felt like it. He just wasn't that type. The throwing pebbles at her window kind of guy. Now here he was eye level with her window, feet firmly planted in the crevices of the sturdy branch on which he stood. He reached an arm out, his fist tapping on the glass softly, as to not startle her. "Rachel?" He said quietly trying to not be too loud. But, loud enough. He didn't hear anybody moving around or anything, but he knew she was in there. She had to be.

What Mike didn't know was that Rachel was awake. Wide awake. And she heard him the first time he knocked. How could she not? It was the only other sound she'd heard other than her own crying since her dads went to sleep. But, it wasn't until he knocked again and she heard the desperateness in his second call of, "Rachel?" did she crack. She got up slowly, eyeing the window like it was dangerous. She walked to it carefully and pulled being the curtains, seeing him outside. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him expertly balancing on the tree, and the way his eyes practically begged her to let him in.

He took in Rachel under the cliché setting of the moonlight and her window, the first thing being prominent was her tear streaked cheeks. Her eyes were red, and tired, circles under them showing a deprivation of sleep. She looked as though she hadn't stopped crying or even slept since she left him alone in the park. Only she knew it was mostly the truth. She had trudged around her house for the past week, waking up at odd times, not bothering to fix her hair or apply makeup. She avoided her mirror at all costs, having turned it around so she didn't have to face her own wrecked reflection. She spent exstensive amounts of time in the shower, because when she was standing under the water and letting the heat run over her face as well as the rest of her body, she didn't feel like she was crying anymore. The only time she was composed was when she was around her dads and they still knew something was wrong because Mike hadn't been around in a few days. Maybe it had been a week? And that definitely wasn't normal.

Mike saw Rachel chew her lower lip, as she had a habit of doing, as she was at war with herself, debating internally on whether or not this was good for her well being or even his. Because, even though she was leaving she still loved him. Or she thought she did. Could you really leave the person you love? Maybe. It was killing her inside. When she left the park she thought she would never see him again. Maybe one last time wouldn't be so bad. So, with that she opened the window for him, pushing it up and then turning to walk back to her bed without saying a word. One arm was around her own waist and the other pushed some of her hair behind her ear nervously before letting it drop to her side.

She didn't realize how lithe and quick Mike was until this exact moment when it seemed like he just appeared behind her, though he had just scrambled through the window quickly.

He grabbed her wrist, stopping her retreat to her bed and she looked down at his hand. How that touch, that innocent hold her had on her wrist caused her heart to speed up, reaching the speed of racecar without even trying. She sucked in a quick breath and she fought back the tears that had been continous, knowing it would never be like this again. She would never love the same way again. If she even knew what love really meant anymore. She turned to him and when she did it sort of resembled a slow dance move, where the girl turns into the guy's arms, but she didn't. She didn't dare get that close to him. She stood firm, her feet planted and looked up at him.

He didn't say a word. He didn't know what to say to make this better, to make this easier. He didn't know what to say to console her, to comfort her. He looked back in her eyes hoping that his next actions would properly communicate the conflicted state he was in. Where words weren't enough to express what he needed to say.

He kissed her, he kissed her as hard as he could without actually hurting her and he dropped her wrist. Both of his hands moved to her hair, holding her close so she couldn't break the kiss in this moment even if she wanted to, and she didn't.

At first her entire body tensed under the pressure of his lips against her own. Her muscles tightened and her hands balled into fists at her sides, willing herself not to give in, her lips not moving an inch. He could tell that she was resisting but he didn't want her to. His hand moved to her back, urging her forward the slightest bit. She took a step to him reluctantly and the second she met his frame she felt herself melt into the kiss. She knew there was no hope now.

When he knew she was going to stay was when her lips parted, allowing the kiss to deepen and his actions were then reciprocated. His hands moved across her body naturally, feeling that perfect slope of her back that seemed to mold under the palm of his hand, like it fit there. Her hands gripped at his shirt, telling him without words not to move farther away and when she stepped backward, he followed. Having not changed the layout of her room since she was about fourteen, she knew without looking exactly where her bed was. She pulled him along and when she felt the back of her knees hit the mattress she pulled his shirt up quickly and he lifted his arms in compliance, allowing her to toss his shirt on the floor.

The both craved this closeness that they knew they were going to lose, these actions that wouldn't feel as meaningful with anybody else. Her hands busily moved over his perfectly toned torso and she kept kissing him hard as she lifted her legs up on to the bed. She was now on her knees, them pressing into her comforter and he was standing, and that just seemed like too far away. Her hand was at his neck, fingertips pressing into his hair, urging him forward and he followed her actions. One hand went to the bed, steadying himself, and the other to her hip, pushing her back gently as he moved above her.

They stayed like that for a moment, savoring each graze of the tongue, the teeth, the lips. It may not have seemed like a big deal, but Rachel, being the conservative person she is, was wearing a button up pajama top, with matching pants. It could have been seen as ridiculously childish, especially with their actions, but for Mike, that was just Rachel. Rachel wouldn't have noticed him fumbling with the buttons down her front if he had not began kissing her neck at the same time. He needed to get rid of that haze so his fingers would function correctly and she needed to be able to focus on something other than his lips to realize he was trying to take her shirt off.

Okay, they hadn't ever gotten further than this, his shirt off and her being little miss virgin and not even doing the same. His hands had moved under her shirt plenty of times, never too high, of course. And now didn't seem like the time to be moving things ahead, but absolutely nothing felt wrong. She looked down to see that he had only one undone and she placed her hands on his forearms, holding there firmly.

That caused him to look up at her, meeting her eyes and she gave him a short nod, almost as approval. Encouragement. His hands were still shaking slightly and he realised he had never been this nervous about something like this. Never with Tina was he so anxious, so excited. His hands seemed to move beyond his control and he began to kiss a trail softly down the newly exposed skin. This was uncharted waters and to she was nervous was an understatement. Her heart hammered in her chest and her back instinvtively arched, causing her skin to meet his lips and-Oh, God. Dear god, she'd never been kissed there before. She gasped and the sounded dissolved into a soft moan. Creating a noise that she didn't believe she had ever produced before.

One hand moved to his hair and her other still gripped his arm as he was now pushing her shirt down. She let go off her hold on him, her hands dropping to the bed as she moved out of the shirt. He tossed it off to the side, not caring where it landed. She shivered slightly, because now she felt so exposed and vulnerable, and yet so comfortable with him. Nobody had ever seen her like this. He moved back up her body, his face now even with hers and she had her eyes closed, trying to breathe as evenly as she could feeling him hovering over her.

His eyes raked over her body, taking in her curves from her pajama bottom clad waist up to her collarbone that looked so inviting and then to her lips that were even more so. She was gorgeous, there was no other way to put it. Her hands hesitantly moved to his bare back, her eyes squeezed shut in concentration, as if she were trying to memorize each inch and remember it as she wouldn't feel it under her fingers like this again.

He placed a soft kiss to her lips and then down her neck again slowly while one hand was now keeping himself up off of her, only slightly, him feeling electricity fill the space between their bodies, the other was a little busier. It moved up and down her bare side hesitantly inching higher to press against her breast. She was shocked at the contact and her hand held on to his back tighter, feeling the prominent muscles there at the same time. She was overwhelmed by this, this moving so fast. Before she could even begin to react to his hand there, he was feathering kisses across the parts of her chest that were exposed by her suprisingly lacy bra. Her nails dug, if only the slightest bit, into his skin.

They were both definitely getting worked up by this, Mike trying to keep a calm head as he knew she was probably being affected by this more so. This was all new to her. But, maybe not. Okay, yeah, he wasn't a virgin. Tina and him had done their fair share of fooling around. Big deal. This was different. This meant more to him than just being with his girlfriend. Hell, Rachel wasn't even that anymore. What would they even call what they had now? It didn't matter. If this did happen, it would be with the girl he loved. The girl he knew would always be a thought in his mind, have a piece of his heart. However cheesy that may sound, it was true.

His hand now moved under the fabric of her bra carefully as to not catch her off guard. Even so, her hand quickly went from his shoulder and was covering his in shock. Her lips had formed a perfect "O" and her eyes snapped open, widening. She just looked at him, trying to process her feelings right at this moment. Pleasure being one of those that was so overwhelming her, but this dull ache in her chest seeming to overpower that tenfold. It was like in this moment, she realized where this was heading. What this would lead to. What this actually meant.

"Mike, I don't. I can't." She whispered weakly, not having the urge to just say stop, or to even finish her sentences. She couldn't do this though. She wanted to so badly, the feeling pooling in the bottom of her stomach telling her to keep going, to let him do all of this and more. She wanted all of him. But, her head. Her head was blowing sirens, flashing lights, telling her to stop this instant before she let this happen. It wouldn't just be physical. It wouldn't just be sex. It could effect her emotionally. No, no it /would/ effect her emotionally and she couldn't take any more of that.

Being so close to somebody as humanly possible and then them being torn away form her so quickly would be the worst kind of pain.

He moved his hand off her bare flesh and turned it over in hers, their fingers interlacing with ease, neither of them understanding how natural of an action that seemed to be. He pulled their clasped hands up to his lips, kissing each of her fingers lightly and then the back of her hand, her wrist, her forearm, the crook of her elbow and upward to her shoulder and then even further up her neck to her ear. At this point her eyes had closed again and she'd let out a few content sighs as he was making his way across her body. He let out a deep breath and she felt his hot breath against her similarly hot skin. Her chest was still rising and falling irregularly, surprised at how sensual he was being and, to be honest, she was still so incredibly turned on in a way she never had been before.

"I know. I know, Rachel." He said softly, finally in response and a chill shot down her spine at how close he still was. At his words, she knew he understood. Tears were freely rolling down her cheeks as she tried to stifle the soft sobs that were developing by taking deep breaths and choking back the sounds. She knew he wanted this so much and she hated doing this to him. Leading him on when they were both so vulnerable, their emotions still so raw and then suddenly stopping him like had so many times before. And yet, this seemed different, so much farther than they had ever been, when in reality it wasn't really. They were just so lost in each other for anything else to matter. Maybe she could do this. If for nothing else, for him.

"I want to," she said quietly, trying to make herself believe that she really did. He tone was obviously forced, her words not genuine. "I want you to," she was nodding to herself, not bothering to finish thoughts or phrases, hoping he understood. She could potentially let him do this. She gently tugged at his hair, her hand had made its way back up to there, causing his head to move back enough so she could kiss him hard. "Please," she said desperately as she pulled away and looked him in the eyes. He could taste the salt of her tears in the kiss, and that wasn't a good feeling at all. Her eyes seemed sad, and he felt his heart wrench, because this was not how this was supposed to happen. If this was ever supposed to happen.

See, Mike didn't come over to have sex with Rachel. Hell, he wasn't even sure he was going to kiss her, he wanted to talk things out, make sure both of them had thought this through. But, when he got there he knew there was nothing he could say to change their choices.

There was this hormonal, raging, craving teenage boy part of him that wanted to keep going, that wanted to strip her down, taste every part of her skin, feel every curve and savor every kiss like it was their last. Because it might be. Then, there was that part of him that Rachel helped him learn about. The respectful man who knew boundaries, who knew her. The man who even when so caught up in the moment cared about her more that anything else in the world. The man who said a quiet, "No," to her in this moment. It wasn't a particularly confident part of him right now, but it was there.

He moved off of her on to his side and she automatically wrapped her arms around him again, her face burying into his neck and him feeling the now steady flow of tears barely wetting his neck. He knew. He understood and that's what Rachel needed. Somebody who understood how hard this was. How she couldn't just freely give away that part of herself. A part he could have, should have, accepted, but didn't. Because, he knew. He was the only person that would ever know.

His hand ran up and down her back careful to stay away from her bra as to not get any ideas. Her body was shaking with sobs and she held on to him tightly, him being the only stable thing she had now. The only constant thing that wasn't going to change, at least in this second.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice, placing a wet kiss on his neck, along with a few others grazed over his jaw. "Mike, I'm so sorry," she muttered weakly as she place her head back in the crook of his neck, seeming to fit there. She settled there as her crying continued.

He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening, not liking that this was happening. That this had to happen. Her arms moved up around his neck, so it was almost like she was hugging him while laying beside him. He could feel her fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck and running through his hair. She had no reason to be sorry. She hadn't done anything wrong. He said the only thing that he could think of. The only thing he was sure would be one hundred percent true.

"I love you," he said simply and her crying growing louder, her hold on him seeming to tighten. Again, she didn't say it back. Not that he was expecting her to, he just had to let her know. She just laid there, crying on him and she couldn't let herself do it. She'd been so comfortable so many times before, but now she deemed it impossible. Not only could her lips not form the words, her heart couldn't form the feeling.

She wouldn't let it.

She fell asleep like that, clinging to him and praying that he never had to leave. That she never had to leave. That they could stay like that forever.

When she woke up, he was gone. Maybe it was better that way. Her arms seemed, to put it simply, empty. Her shirt sill lay haphazardly on her bedroom floor, the moment of it being tossed off so vivid in her mind. That night was the best she'd slept in, well, in a week. Her mind recalled the events, so perfectly detailed and engraved in her cerebellum. How would she ever be able to let that go? Her eyes scanned her room, it feeling oddly…changed. Like she didn't belong here. She had to work to stop from crying again, it would be enough to finally have to leave her dads, she didn't want to have to face them first thing and already have to explain her tired, aching, and still red eyes.

Those eyes met something on her bedroom floor. Her feet couldn't carry her fast enough as she clamored off of her bed. She ended up on her floor, clutching the bundle of material desperately; it was his shirt. He had left it. She let the pads of her fingers run over the material that used to stretch over his fit and defined muscles she rememberd so well. She carried it as she numbly stood and walked to her full length mirror. She ddin't know why she did it, it just felt right. She held the shirt between her elbow and her side as she turned the mirror around. She saw her eyes the first time for real since this all started. They had lost their light, their want for attention or other pairs to be set on them. She saw how her pants lay low and loose on her hips and she though of how easy it would have been for Mike to have pushed them down hours prior.

She looked in the mirror and watched from that angle how, even when she wasn't fully aware, her hands felt the cotton, as if making sure it wouldn't disappear.

In a quick flurry of movement she pulled it on, she saw how the shirt hung loosely on her frame, how when she pulled it over her head it smelled like…him. The small scent of cinnamon, probably more from his home than his cologne. /That/ smell she located lingering around the neckline very faintly. Maybe she was just imagining it. She, as pathetic as it may have seemed, gripped the top of the shirt and pulled it up to her nose, enveloping herself in him. Feeling the warmth of the shirt wrapped around her instead of his arms. The faint smell of him simply comforting.

Her eyelashes fluttered just once before she caught her own eye in the mirror. She saw herself mid-action in her reflection. Her hair was awry, her now wearing a combination of a baggy, dirty t-shirt and loose laying, almost playful pajama pants. She looked…older. Like the past week had caused her to age a matter of years. She had dark circles from the lack of sleep and they were prominent against the rest of her paler skin. She looked like a mess. She really was pathetic wasn't she? She collapsed to the floor, back to the mirror so she didn't have to see herself anymore, not bothering to even make her way back to her bed.

She pulled the shirt tight to her body and she could feel the material so well on her skin. It was smooth yet weathered, almost like his hands trailing over used to feel. Beat up, experienced, soothing, gentle, comfortable, easy. All of those things and more that start a warmth in her chest, a familiar warmth that started another round of tears. Silent ones as she lay broken on her bedroom floor.

He'd left her room the night before in a rush, almost the moment he could tell she was asleep by the way her weight seemed to lay on him. He couldn't stay longer than absolutely allowed. He wouldn't. Her dads might walk in and question their position, or she might wake up again and he would have to actually say good bye. He had to make a few attempts to leave, a couple times her hand gripping on to his side or his neck, her subconscious even wanting him there. After multiple failed attempts, he'd slipped out of her arms, leaving her laying on her bed, looking so incredibly peaceful without him.

He didn't bother picking up his shirt. Actually, he didn't remember his mind reminding him that he didn't have a shirt on. He just left. He climbed out the window, shutting it silently and when his feet hit the grass at the roots of the tree, he ran. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him. His feet pounded into the pavement, a monumental amount of energy behind each stride. He was trying to exert his emotions in actions. In any actions that would help. His eyes stayed train forward as he ran, but he didn't run home. He passed small shops and boutiques in a small part of Lima. An almost old downtown district type place until he reached his destination.

That coffee shop. That damn old coffee shop.

He looked at the outside of it, his breathing labored as he remembered all the times he'd been there with Rachel. The night that he could place that started this. When he started this. He didn't have to go outside and offer her a ride. Hell, most people wouldn't have she was Rachel Berry. But, of course, he did and that opened a door to all this. It was crazy how one moment, one place could effect his life so greatly. There was silence in the air except for his panting that wouldn't die down, due to a combination of things.

"How the hell could this happen?" He yelled into the darkness, directing his anger at the small café. His muscles were aching, a layer of sweat covered him as she stood fists clenched looked at the door, the window, detecting the faint outline of chairs and that counter inside. He was remember that night and somehow, even in the heat of the summer he could feel the tingling bite of the cold.

"After everything I had to go through!" He bursted and kept his feet firmly planted. "After everything I had to do to get her!" One of his hands opened and hit his chest multiple times, emphasizing his hurt and that /he/ had gone through all this crap and now what was it worth? He looked up and down the street, checking to see if anybody else was out. Why would anybody be up though? He had no reason not to keep yelling at his brick cube in front of him.

"And now she has to go to New York!" He spat angrily, trying to find any words that would make him feel better, but they all just caused the truth to stir in him. He was yelling at a building. You couldn't get much lower than this. "And I knew this was coming!"

He also now knew, he was lying to himself this whole time. It wasn't about leaving his family or friends, they seemed trivial to him when measured up to Rachel. None of them feeling even half as important as her. The truth was: Mike was scared. Scared out of his mind that if he went to New York, Julliard even, (Yes, he had been accepted, but never told her. He knew that she would make him accept even if he didn't want to. She would say something about how it opened opportunities for him.) he would watch her find somebody else. He was scared that in New York there would be somebody that would understand her better. Somebody that would be more talented, more attractive, more understanding of her goals and dreams. And that he would be there to watch it happen. He would see her look at this guy that was so perfect for her in way he would never be. And then, he would get hurt and be alone in New York. And he didn't even know if a guy like that existed for her. But, maybe if he kept his distance, stayed in Lima, it wouldn't hurt as much. But, she didn't seem to even want to try that. And that made him more sure in his decision. That he wasn't worth it. He would waste her time and he didn't want anything like that.

"I knew she was going to leave someday!" He kept yelling. In a rush of anger her looked around on the ground, find a rock and throwing it at the window. It didn't even caused a scratch. It didn't change a damn thing. "It doesn't make it hurt less!" He continued his rant, not knowing if his words made any sense, or were in any kind of order.

"I doesn't make me forget her!"

"I hate this coffee shop!"

"I hate Lima!"

"What am I supposed to do without her?" He screamed that last part and who cares if he was supposed to be a strong guy. Whatever. Hot angry tears were on his cheeks. He was going to miss her, he was allowed to be sad, to be angry, right? He yelled as loud as he could, not words, not a phrase. He just…yelled. And then turned, his back hitting the door with thud that should have hurt but it didn't. He couldn't feel anything. He slid down the door, heading dropping back to hit the glass. "God, what am I supposed to do without her?" He mumbled to himself and shook his head, not wanting to let himself get this way. Not when it was too late to do anything about it.

He closed his eyes for what seemed like just a minute and when he opened them again it was light out. He saw a figure standing in front of him and he had to squint to make them out. His boss. Ex-boss. His neck hurt, from him apparently having gone to sleep like that, a very awkward position indeed. He stood up, knowing he looked disheveled, not put together in the least. Oh, and he was shirtless.

"Are you okay, Michael?" He asked the boy in front of him. He wondered if the boy was intoxicated or suffering a hangover or some other side effects from alcohol or drugs. Why else would he be in front of this building so early in the morning and stuttering the way he was?

"Sir, I, umm," he tried to explain what was going on, but couldn't seem to find the words. Even if he could, they would probably sound ridiculous. "I, just," he looked back to the sign hanging in front, trying to keep his eyes from the man he who held that questioning look. "I'm sorry, sir. I should, uhh, I should be going." Mike said and then turned away, walking in the direction of his home. Before Mike could get too far, he spoke again.

"Mike," he said with a sense of power in his voice. That familiar sound that Mike had learned in the duration of his employment there. He turned around to meet those firm, experiences eyes that Mike prayed held at least a shred of truth. "I'm sure whatever it is will work out," He said offering a warm smile. He knew something was wrong with the boy, he just couldn't place what.

Mike reluctantly returned the smile, trying to appease him. Trying to seem as normal as possible. "I'm sure you're right."

Ha. Very funny.


	18. It's Better This Way

AN: My first words are going to my sincerest apologies. In between this chapter in the last school started for me, along with sports, homework, church, and a ton of other excuses I could throw at you, but I'm only human. I have a life outside of this story too and as much as I hate that I couldn't update, that only thing I can do is to say I will try my hardest to update sooner next time.

Second, **aprettyfacelies**, if you are reading this. I'm so sorry for whoever that was that did that to you, I know it means practically nothing, but I dedicate the chapter, and the speedy work but into it in the past few hours, to you, because I couldn't wait any more after seeing how people wanted to read where this was going.

I just really hope it was worth the wait. I tried my best.

Edit: Ohmygod. I'm embarrassed. It's been way too long when you put the wrong name for the character you created. Sorry to all of you who read it with the wrong name. :/

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><p>It was a hard day for Rachel. Grabbing her bags and rolling them out of her house. She had finally had to just tell her dads what was going on. When they knocked on her door and she didn't respond that morning, that was where they drew the line with her hiding things. They walked in on her laying on the floor, clutching her sides and shaking her head, sobbing desperately.<p>

They immediately went to her, the larger of the two gathering their daughter in his arms. He stroked her hair and she buried her head into her father's chest, wishing they could just bring her a glass of water and everything would be okay like when she was little. She didn't know the difference between thirsty and sad but now. Now, she was just thirsty, not sad. She tried to remember when things were that simple, but it was so hard to forget.

She spoke weakly to her dads. "Daddy," She whispered catching his attention instantly, her talking directly to the man holding her now, trying to make her feel better. It wasn't working though, there was only one set of arms that she could imagine holding her now and sadly it wasn't anybody she would probably see again. "Mike," God, she never knew it could be that hard to say somebody's name. She choked it out once more. "Mike…he…isn't. He doesn't…he…"

That broken tone in her voice that was familiar to the two men. Whenever there daughter was heartbroken they heard this tone. But, this, this seemed so much worse. So much more genuine and real than ever before. "Oh, sweety, it's going to be okay," was soothingly repeated to her now. It didn't seem like enough. To hear that is was going to be okay. She needed to feel like it and she didn't think she would have emotions similar to that for a long time. After a few moments of silence, the men decided to leave their daughter to get ready.

After all she had to go to New York today.

They helped her to her feet and led her to the bathroom, turning on the water and left it running for her so she could take a shower. There were patriarchal kisses on her forehead before they left and now she was alone again and the circumference of that gaping hole where her heart had been seemed to grow. She climbed into the tub, easily sinking into the warm water that seemed to envelop her in an embrace, welcome her like a friend and invite her to stay for hours. But she couldn't.

After all she had to go to New York today.

She never saw that as a thing she would dread. As a time in her life when she would feel more broken and incomplete than ever before. She thought maybe she would be up all night, full of excitement and anticipation, not that sinking feeling that still lingered from when his warm skin had pressed against her own. Instead as her bags were now pulled out of the trunk of her fathers car, she wanted to cry. Because, she had no idea if she would see Mike again before she left for good. If her last memory of him would be falling asleep in his arms.

She was sure she wouldn't. One hundred percent. But there was a part of her that had to hope, that part that still loved him. That maybe she would get her picture perfect movie moment. Where the hero comes rushing in, pushing through the crowds to get to her, screaming her name over the other thousands of people separating them. She would turn her head and see him and their eyes would lock and it would be perfection. He would reach her, pull her into those strong arms of his that held her so many time and kiss her like there was no tomorrow. He would whisper promises about how he would never let her leave alone, or how she had to stay or it would just kill him.

There were a few flaws in that dream though.

One: They were in Ohio. There weren't thousands of other people who were in this airport. Especially not this early.

Two: The heroine wasn't normally standing in sweats when she got swept off her feet.

Three: She had turned him away. She told him she couldn't do it this way, the long distance thing. So, why should he even try if he felt like it would get him nowhere?

Four: He wouldn't do that to her. He wouldn't make this harder on her, both of them.

After dragging her bags inside, feeling the material of his shirt still brush against her stomach with every step, hidden under a baggy sweater that she claimed was comfortable for plane rides, she waited. She held on to the handle of her rolling bag and stood confidently in the middle of the airport.

_First call for flight 23 to LGA. First call for flight 23 to LGA._

She heard the words over the speakers and remained in the same spot. A wary glance was exchanged between the two older males. Why had their daughter not moved? Was she not highly anticipating her departure? They had thought maybe getting to the airport would boost her spirits but there she stood, unmoving, unaffected by those words. The male who had not had the experience of holding their daughter that same morning now took a step to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She seemed to wince at his contact, but kept firm in her footing.

"Come on, honey, you need to get on the plane," he said softly trying to soothe her.

"No," she said flatly before shrugging off her father's hand and facing the door that he would have had to walk in. Her eyes fixated on the glass, like she was mesmerized by the way the sun seemed to shine through it as it was making its ascent into the sky. But, that wasn't it at all. She was trying to find where the top of the view was, where somebody's shoes would be seen the very first moment they got close enough.

_Second call for flight 23 to LGA. Second call for flight 23 to LGA._

She took a step away from them closer to the door, increasing her line of vision, as well as avoiding their words that were so very true.

"Dad, he loves me. He told me. He'll be here." She said simply, but with a shaky tone, her unsure thoughts being expressed through her tone instead of her words. "He'll be here," she repeated, her words even less sure when she said it again. But, they became the mantra in her head, the one that kept her from getting on the plane.

"Rachel, you can't do this to yourself, you need to-" She turned around abruptly, facing her father with anger lacing her statements that cut him off.

"I can do whatever the hell I want. You tell me to be an adult. Make my own decisions. My decision is to stay right here and wait for Mike. He loves me." She said once more. That had to be enough for him to show up, give her one more chance to change her mind. Right at this moment she felt if he were to show up, she just might. She turned back around and for the next two minutes her fathers didn't attempt to move her.

_Final call for flight 23 to LGA. Final call for flight 23 to LGA._

She had her eyes closed now, her shoulders were shaking with soft sobs, regretting what she said to her father and it killing her that she was right in her first assumption. He wasn't going to show up. Why the hell would he?

"You'd tell me if he showed up, right?" She asked quietly. "You'll call me when I get to New York, right? Tell me that he came to say bye? That just as the plane was taking off he walked in the door to come get me, right? Right, Daddy?" She asked weakly. Her words were cut up into section, separated by hiccups with each quickly sucked breath and reciprocating action of her diaphragm.

"Of course," she heard from behind her and she nodded, her hand doing its now instinctual job of reaching up to wipe her tears away.

"Okay," she whispered taking a large breath to steady her breathing and she said it once more. "Okay," he tone more firm that time. More sure that her next decision would be to get on that plane.

They made their way to the gate in absolute silence after dropping off her bags and going through the necessary procedures. Not finding anything of importance to talk about in the short moments they had left. They were at the security checkpoint where nobody else could go with her and, at this point, she was one hundred percent okay with that. Tight hugs were exchanged as well as encouragements of, "Good luck," "You're going to do great, sweetie," "We'll visit you soon," "We are so proud of you," and "We love you so much." No more tears were shed. She'd done enough of that already.

She went the through the security and then extensive scanning of her carry on and her person. By the time she was through, she was just ready to go, be in New York and stay in the small apartment that had arranged for her to stay in. She got on the plane, pushing her way past people and finally finding her seat next to a window. She pulled out her iPod, putting her Wicked playlist on repeat, buckled and settled in. The instructions of the flight attendant were muted and she watched as she directed up and down the aisles and demonstrated the correct way to put the safety mask on, should it fall from the compartment above her head.

The plane rose into the sky and landed without a hitch. The flight itself being rather short, and it made Rachel wonder why this time in between place was such a big deal. But, it wasn't the time. He could spare a couple hours on the weekend to go home and see his tight knit family, she knew that much, but it was the cost. He couldn't afford it and the drive would take too long. They both had more important things to take care of. When they landed, she tried her best to keep her mind off of Mike, but there was absolutely no way.

She took a cab to a part of town that wasn't exactly the greatest, but was affordable, and small. That was all she really needed. A place to sleep. She didn't plan on staying there too much, she wanted to be out, exploring and getting to know everything, enjoying New York. When the driver pulled up in front of the building she paid him and then, having put her bags in the back seat told him that she didn't need any help. She pulled one out and sat it on the curb. The other she had more trouble with, it getting pushed in at an awkward angle.

She tugged, and with pent up frustration and anger, she pulled it hard, it landing on her legs, causing her to fall back into the traffic of the sidewalk.

"Hey, watch it, Hobbit," said a female's voice and they stepped over her, hand clasped with a man. She sat up, eyeing the girl, was that? No, there was no way that could be….

"Patricia?" She called after the blazing red ponytail that bounced along. You could see the girl stop, look over to the man accompanying her and then turn back around to the girl laying on the concrete. Her face screwed up in concentration, trying to pull back the memories from a year ago.

"Rachel?" The girl asked and a bright grin broke on her face. Rachel noticed something different, her piercings, at least the ones on her face, weren't there any longer. And as Patricia approached her she realized there was no proof they had ever been there. They had been fake? She pushed herself to her feet and an odd look crossed on Rachel's face as Patrici pulled her in to a hug.

"It's been too long!" She exclaimed, her joy seeming to dull Rachel's aching pain if only for the moment. Patricia turned away from her, waving off the man who she was holding hands with and then turned back to Rachel, who was very overwhelmed at the moment. At Rachel's confused face, Patricia became confused herself. "What? What is it? Is there something on my face?" She asked, reaching a hand up like she was going to wipe the remnants of food away.

"No, it's not that. But, what happened to all of the…things on your face?" Rachel blatantly asked to which Patrici just grinned and nodded.

"Right, those. They were fake. I…wanted the image, without the pain. Or the scarring. You didn't really think I thought I would get on Broadway with all those did you?" Rachel just shook her head and laughed, her mood lightening as she ran her hand through her untamed hair. She looked down and then gestured down the street to the guy who had just turned a corner.

"So, that the boyfriend?" She asked, remembering when she had seen the picture on her phone and couldn't quite compare the two, seeing as it had been so long. Patricia turned to look down the street, like needing a reminder and then realization was on her face. Her boyfriend in fact was the reason that her attitude was so positive as of late. The fact that they both go to move to New York was more than she could have expected. Not to mention the face, she was expecting an advancement in their relationship any day now.

"Oh, yeah. That's the boyfriend." She shrugged and then reached a hand over to gently nudge Rachel on the arm. "Where's your boyfriend?" She asked, a bit of excitement to see the guy who she remembered made Rachel so happy despite her relentless teasing. "Is he in the suitcase?" She kicked the bag lightly in front of her. "Did you forget him in the cab?" She then changed to looking down the street like she was trying to spot the cab that had long since drove away. "He in the coffee shop?" She jutted a thumb to the building beside them, which Rachel just noticed was indeed a small hole in the wall coffee shop.

Rachel winced at Patricia prodding and then caught her eye. All she did was shake her head, just the slightest bit and then there was that coating on her eyes again that blurred her vision, threatening to spill over. Patricia's expression immediately changed to sympathetic.

"Oh, Rachel," she said sadly and then stepped forward to pull her, now friend, into a hug. A tight hug and Rachel immediately latched on, the tears didn't fall though, she wouldn't let them. Patricia just spoke softly. "What happened? You seemed so put together last year. Like you'd figured it out." The words stung because she agreed with her. She thought she had figured it all out herself, that there was no more looking for her and that she found the guy Mr. Schue had told her about so long ago. The one that would love all the things about her that even she didn't like.

Rachel buried her head into Patricia's shoulder and mumbled, tripping over her words. "No. He didn't want to come here. I didn't want long distance. It's better this way," she forced herself to say succintly. Maybe it was better. It's not like there was any choice now, so it had to be better.

"Here, come on, let me help you with your bags," she said abruptly and pulled away from the hug, giving Rachel a moment to compose herself. Patricia pulled the fallen bag up off the concrete and handed the handle of the other bag to Rachel. "We were just about to go grab something to eat. You can come join us if you want." Patrcia's expressions were softer now, more hesitant and careful it seemed as she realized Rachel was very sensitive now, although she had known of that before, now it was like walking on eggshells.

She looked up to her building and thought of what would happen if she just went inside, didn't say anything more to Patricia. She would be in New York completely alone, at least this way she had a friend. That was good enough for now.

"Okay. Yeah, I would like that a lot," she said simply, a warm smile spreading on her lips. Patricia put her arm around the smaller girl and nodded in the direction to go, rolling her suitcases behind them.

"So, tell me. What has the fascinating Miss. Rachel Berry been up to?" She said sarcastically causing Rachel to laugh. Genuinely laugh and her smile to widen. Patrcia's teasing had always seemed different than everybody else's. Maybe it was because since that night where they discussed Mike, Rachel knew Patrcia had a soft spot for her.

Maybe being in New York wouldn't be so bad.


	19. It's a Date

AN: So, I know it's been a while and I really feel bad for waiting so long to update once more. On top of the stress I had an amazing bout of writer's block and this was the best I could get out. Don't worry guys, I'm going somewhere with this, you'll get your Cherry soon enough, although not as soon as I'm sure all of you would like, it's still going to be in about 2 or 3 chapters, I haven't decided exactly yet. I'm sorry for the wait and although this is a short chapter, I really hope it's worth it. I already have half of the next chapter written, so I hope to have that up much sooner. Anyway, enjoy. :)

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><p>It had been exactly three weeks since Mike saw her. 21 days. 504 hours. 30,240 minutes. 1,814,400 seconds. Since he talked to her. Held her. Told her he loved her. Kissed her. Everything that he wished he had back. Not that he was keeping track. Not that it was a constant disturbance in his mind and heart. Not that his daily routines changed and his patterns were disrupted. Not that there was a residual ache in his chest that sometimes spread and caused him to deprive himself of food. And definitely not that he missed her or anything. He spent his time trying to distract himself, find things to keep him from thinking of her, but everything did. He would turn on the radio and a Taylor Swift song would come on. All he could think about was their ridiculous night at the karaoke place when they had so much fun. He couldn't have any kind of coffee for the life of him, which effected his sleep pattern only slightly. He couldn't sing, as much as he had liked doing that when she asked him to. He couldn't watch a musical for sure, they were immediately associated with her. So, he started exercising, which was great for his muscles, but bad for his relationships with other people. And may have still slightly reminded him of the machine she had sitting in the corner of her room that she used to get on every morning.<p>

The only people he occasionally talked to anymore were Sam and Puck. And even then it was only when they would happen to come into the gym at the same time, and they were just fleeting conversations that amounted to nothing. They would be leaving town soon, he wasn't sure when, he wasn't one to pry, but soon enough he would lose those friends as well. He felt empty. Yeah, it was cliché, but it was because she was gone. She seemed like the balance to him. He was quiet, she was loud. She was confident, he was shy (most of the time). She was so incredibly perfect, and here was flawed and regretting every second he spent trying to forget her. There were so many other things he could list off that he tried to repress in the past three weeks.

He knew he needed to move on, to work past all of it and figure things out before he got lost in this whirlwind of college and adulthood.

He also danced more in these 504 hours, not more than in his life as some people liked to exaggerate, but definitely more than he had the pleasure of enjoying recently. He couldn't seem to improvise, though. Maybe his skills had just got rusty, like a bike left out in the rain. Suddenly the chains won't turn all the way, the spokes are bent or that bright blue isn't as bright anymore. You've got kinks and the pedals won't push or the handlebars are rough. No matter the cause, simply, his limbs didn't do what he wanted. They used to form patterns and routines as if a part of his brain was programmed with an intricate set of dials his conscious mind couldn't seem to understand. It was always just an undecided act should his body move in a way to music.

Now, his feet would fumble and trip over themselves. You could see the awkwardness in his moves reflected in the mirrors that stretched from the solid hardwood floors up to the ceiling. It didn't make sense anymore. Thought she left with nothing more than suitcases and his shirt, which he eventually realized had never been attempted to be returned, and that his passion, teacher, and studio still remained, he no longer had the drive. Was it worth it anymore to drag his feet out of bed? Or to force his body to move unnaturally, controlled, like a puppet being jerked around attached to strings? Who's puppeteer had no concern for the well being of it's toy? Had he wasted an entire year (technically more) of his life on her? His emotions? His love?

This day was just like any other, just as bland, just as forced. With his semester not starting for a few months, his job having been quit weeks prior, he had nothing more than to fill his time at the studio. Video games were temporary, the plots and actions were redundant and he didn't get as much enjoyment out of them as he used to. Plus, it would remind of times that he attempted to show Rachel how to play. How instead of actually playing, she just mashed buttons and when she resigned she would settle against his chest, looking up at his face while playing instead of the screen. How she would reach a hand up and trail it over his jaw, distracting him from the attacking her was supposed to be doing. He had danced with her before, yes, but he danced with a lot of people. And at least there he could attempt to concentrate on something, one foot in front of the other.

Now, he danced furiously, sweat forming on his arms and brow, collecting in the hair at the nape of his neck. He grunted as he attempted to throw his weight in the correct direction to accomplish a move, finishing unsuccessfully and starting over. After one last turn, he doubled over, placing a hand on the cool glass of the mirror, feeling a wrenching in his stomach, like he might just heave on to the floor. Through pants he glanced up at the clock and realized it had been two hours.

Two hours since he stopped moving. Since he drank water. Since he thought about her. He trudged over to a chair in the corner of the room, getting a towel to wipe the drops of sweat that had seemed to accumulate over his skin. He took a long refreshing sip of water, feeling the cool liquid soothe the churning in his stomach. As if on cue, his phone rang at his foot, vibrating and nudging his toes, as if trying to get his attention.

Quickly, he snatched it up, checking the name and then wanting to slap himself for doing so. It wasn't her name. Never was. Never will be. He flipped open the phone anyway, the girl's voice he recognized almost immediately and he silenced as she spoke.

"Hey, Mike, I was just wondering how you were doing." She said quickly, not giving him time to respond. "I know that you haven't been around much, and you look really tired when I do see you. I just wanted to say that…I..uhh, I miss you." She seemed to have collected enough breath to spout it off, stammering as she did and suddenly Mike realized that she had plenty of experience acting nervous, she used to fake a stutter all the time. Plus, why would she be nervous talking to him, so it had to be acting. Unless it was just the fact that he put her through so much. Even so, how was it possible for her to miss him then.

"Oh, hey, T." He said casually, maybe to assure her that yes, he had answered the phone. And even though there were parts of her he didn't miss, yes, he may have missed some of the other parts. Not the sexual stuff or anything like that, even though he never did have any experiences with Rachel, their relationship meant so much more. But, Tina was a really great friend, you could depend on her and she would make sacrifices to help others.. Even before everything else and not to mention the fact that she was a great dance partner. "Umm, what have you been up to?" He asked as he collected the rest of his things, and headed out the door.

"Oh, not much, really. I mean, you know how it is, being single and all," she said and he detected the honesty in her voice. Sure, it was a pretty raw way to bring up the topic, and he wasn't sure why she would in the first place, but now it was on the forefront of his mind. He was sure that she had another fling with Artie in the past year, but that hadn't gone over well, just like the first time. Though the reasoning weren't the same, Artie seemed to have a hard time not comparing Tina to Brittany. He also recalled the time she was even talking to Finn. It was right after his and her breakup and it seemed like they were genuinely attracted to each other, maybe it was to cause jealousy to arise or maybe it was because everybody else had seemed to pair off. Or maybe in was because they really cared about each other. Either way, Mike recalled Rachel's words perfectly.

"I think it's sweet that they've found each other in such dark circumstances." She had been laying with her head in his lap, looking up at him as she spoke, both of her hands folded and on her stomach. His feet were propped up on her coffee table and he was looking down at her.

"I wouldn't exactly call them dark, Rach." He replied and his hand had been playing with her hair, a familiar action that he knew always calmed her down, eased her stress.

"Well, I wouldn't call them light, either, Michael." She used as a rebuttal and he had to give her that one.

"Touché."

He was snapped back to reality as, for some reason, Tina continued talking. "And, I was just wondering, since neither of us have anything to do, we could meet up or something." Her voice seemed to grow softer as she trailed off on her thought. Sure, he missed having company, especially that of a female because they were so much sweeter, their voices much smoother and their touches much calmer. There tones were more peaceful and overall they were much better company than some sweat meatheads in a gym, he liked to hold actual conversations some times. So, he decided it would be a good idea to at least have a little fun.

"Umm, sure, what did you have in mind?" He asked as he climbed into his car, the one he'd sat in so many times with Rachel in the passenger seat. They'd even had their times in the backseat that had been exciting and interesting. He tried to force those thoughts out as Tina's voice once more invaded his ears.

"Well, I was thinking maybe a movie and then…ice cream afterwards?" She said innocently, but he caught the intention behind her words. Had not every couple in some cheesy romance comedy followed that exact same trek? They would sit close to each other in the dark and the girl would bury her head in the boy's shoulder when she was scared or sad, depending on the genre. Afterwards eating the ice cream would be playful and fun and by the end of they night they both would have realized there was no way either of them could just be friends.

But…it would be different with Tina, right? Of course it would.

"Yeah, sure, that sounds great. My treat." Knee jerk reaction, that's all. He hadn't really meant to say it but in situations like these he was most certainly a gentleman and so the words were like instinct. He could practically hear the smile in her next words.

"Great, then it's a date." He cringed at the word. Date. There was so much weight in such a simple word like that. Had she meant it literally, she would probably take it as they were now dating again, which he wouldn't be surprised if she assumed that, but would never approve of had he had enough time to do damage control. Date. It could just mean they were meeting up somewhere, he heard his mom use the expression all the time with family friends and yet for some reason it didn't feel like Tina meant it that way. Date. Now, why was he so opposed to that word?

Rachel. Of course. Although there was no chance in hell he would get her back…he was still stuck on her. But he was single, he could do whatever he wanted, with whoever he wanted and there would essentially be no consequences. But, that didn't help ease the pain at all, because he wanted her there. He wanted her to be jealous if he talked to another girl and he wanted her to be the only girl he went on dates with. And it was probably the fact that he had a strong feeling that he would never get to date her again that made him say his next words.

"Yeah, sure thing, T. It's a date."


	20. Who the Hell is That?

AN: WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! PLEASE READ ALL OF THE AUTHOR'S NOTE! Just to let you know, I feel like you guys are going to hate me for this chapter. I sort of kind of hate myself for this chapter, but I felt like there needed to be an attempt from both sides to move on and this is what was created. Also WARNING! WARNING! Adult themes are prominently in this chapter. I hope you enjoy and I promise, soon there will be Cherry that is so sweet you can't take it. You'll have to take a break like when you get that chocolate cake with chocolate icing and it makes your tongue feel funny just because it's too full of sugary goodness. I already know this because I have it written. Yes, a draft of actual Cherry sweetness is written, so it's coming guys, just be patient as you all have been. (:

P.S. I'm dong NaNoWriMo so if any of you are interested in that and whatever I'm going to be able to produce in a matter of seventeen days, feel free to like..tell me about your novel and stuff and I might give up a few details on my own, although they are still in the making. Late, I know. And also, if there is something you would like to see me write about because of my style, go ahead and shoot me something in my inbox.

OH! And review! Pretty please! I miss all the reviews and I know I'm not in any position to ask, but I can't help it, they just make me so happy. (:

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><p>Rachel forced herself to try and go out a few times; to forget. Or at least attempt to replace. Not him, she could never replaced Mike and she knew that. But she could replace the memories. She would make new friends, meet new friendly faces that could greet her with just as much warmth as Mike used to. She could feasibly move on, had it not been for that shirt that was tucked away in her bottom drawer. The one thing she wouldn't dare to tell Patricia about. She had told her everything, they spent time eating ice cream and talking, just like Rachel had always seen in those movies that appealed to her so greatly. Patricia was a great friend when she wasn't worried about her boyfriend back home, or the outcome of a summer camp, both of which had increased her anxiety during Rachel's first account with her. Sure, Patricia still almost always had her snippy moments, but Rachel knew better than to take them to heart anymore.<p>

Rachel never really got out, though. She had an occasional greeting here, a inquiry about what she is pursuing there, and one conversation with a very nice gentleman in a small café who told her about how he was pursuing his dreams as an artist. Taking a risk. And that made her feel warm, because that's exactly what she was doing. Hell, if she ended up with any thing to show for it, but at least she was trying and that was more than most people could say. Still, Patricia was her only true companion.

Although she had a much nicer exterior, still wasn't the best of influences. It seemed that moving to New York seemed to fuel her rebellious acts as well, and Rachel had no choice but to tag along. Who was she to turn down plans with one of the few people she knew in New York. So, when Patricia insisted the get fake I.D.s, Rachel had no choice but to comply. At least that's what she told herself to keep her conscience clear. They some how ended up with two small laminated cards tucked behind their real I.D.s in their wallets and somehow it felt thrilling and pretty dull at the same time. What was the point?

That was until one night they were hanging out in Rachel's apartment, playing Fiddler on the Roof at full blast just to annoy her neighbors, Patricia's idea to get Rachel to laugh, and it worked. They were singing and standing on the bed, before Patricia hopped over to the stereo quickly flipping off the radio, leaving Rachel singing the next line at full volume with no accompaniment.

"Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match! Find me a find, catch me a catch!"

Rachel pouted in an exaggerated way, crossing her arms and standing on her bed like a small child, of course she was about the same size, so it helped the effect.

"We're going out." Patricia stated simply, that mischievous glint in her eyes and Rachel shook her head slightly.

"No…no, I think I'd much rather stay at home tonight," she said simply and sat down, pulling her sweatshirt down as to make sure to cover the material of Mike's shirt that she still wore.

"Look, Rachel," she said tucking a section of hair that had fallen out of her messy bun behind her ear. "As much as I love singing "Do You Love Me?" to the neighbors, you need to get out. I haven't seen you wear a headband in weeks." Rachel scoffed, like that was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever hear, although she knew it was true. Like she'd be wearing a headband if she went out anyway.

"And what exactly did you have in mind?" Rachel asked, moving to the edge of the bed and letting her legs hang over.

"A club," she stated simply and Rachel automatically shook her head, rising from the bed.

"No, no. Clubs have…drinking. And…dancing, if you'd even call it that." She stated pointedly. "And then there's the fact we are underage." She said, turning her back to Patricia.

"What's the point of the I.D's if we're not going to use them!" Patricia burst and almost laughing. "Come on, live a little!"

And that was all Patricia needed to say, because you only have one life. You only have one chance to live in New York when you're nineteen. You only have one chance to mess up and you only have one chance to have fun. Rachel was an adult, "make your own decisions," her fathers told her. And although this one was reckless and irresponsible, it was her's.

After nervous fidgeting and close calls with the curling iron and she skin of Rachel's neck, Rachel was powdered up and smeared down with ounces of makeup, ones that varied from a deep purple with a shimmer and small flecks of glitter that coated her lids to a pale base that highlighted her cheeks bones and the shape of her face. The outer V's of her eyes were dusted with a dark black that softened the edges and framed the dark hues of her eyes with a smoky gradient.

Rachel practically demanded that Patricia go fix her own attire, stating that if she was participating in such acts, her friend has too, as well. Rachel's arms were crossed and a her expression was a glare that would kill if looks had acquired that ability. Patricia denied every being Rachel's friend, playfully at that, and after a snaky comment about how she didn't need to change anything about her appearance, a wink, and a reluctant pinky swear by Rachel to not take her makeup off, she left in the direction of her own apartment, carefully noting Rachel's dress choice that she had pulled from her closet in making sure not to get one that was too similar.

Rachel scrolled through the phonebook, spotting the foreign name that had been typed into her phone.

"Daniel ;)" Is what it read. She would never have done that herself, she'd always thought the small smiley faces were ridiculous and were just part of a social standard. Like, if you use so many smiley faces that deems you cool.

"You know, you're really cute when you can't convey sarcasm through a text properly. ;)" Mike had once texted her, she had rolled her eyes and shamelessly played along with his little ploy.

"Oh, I know. ;)" She complied the once, the only time she'd ever revert to using the semicolon and parentheses in such ways. He swore to save it in his phone for historical documentation. She remembered his words exactly.

"This will go down as the day that, Michael Andrew Chang, got my girlfriend, **the** Rachel Barbra Berry, to use a winking face and conform to the pressures of social expectations." To say that she had laughed was probably an understatement. For about half of a second she wondered if it was still saved in his phone, that other half she was busy pressing the green call button in order to connect to Daniel. The phone was resting lightly against her cheek, as to not smudge Patricia's hard work as she twirled one of the defined curls around her finger as she waited.

"Talk to me," she heard almost instantly on the other end of the line. The power and confidence in his words made her smile slightly. She'd been doing that more often lately; smiling. He'd had the same confidence in the coffee shop, calling her out and saying that she was good looking, as well as half telling her to hand over her phone. She could tell that he probably hadn't checked his caller I.D., or at least he hadn't cared it was her calling, and that whoever had been on the other end would have got the same generic greeting. She could already tell this person would be a good friend. Hopefully.

"Oh, hey, umm, Daniel, this is Rachel. From the coffee shop?" She offered, trying to trigger his memory as well as reverting to the character she had displayed for him in the coffee shop. The young, naive girl who had her dreams, but hardly had anybody help her through the social aspect of New York City.

"Call me, Danny, hon," he said quickly, like maybe he was rushing or had plans already and at the same time it was like he rehearsed it and it was familiar to him, maybe he'd said it a million times to a million other girls, but the only thing Rachel noticed was the he said it to her.

"Oh, well, Danny then. A friend and I were heading out tonight and I was just wondering if you would like to join us," she stated formally, looking at herself in the mirror with a proud smile, one that she rewarded herself in not flubbing over her lines. One that also was a part of the other persona she knew she would transform into once they left the apartment. She'd done that since she got here, developed different sides of herself. Characters almost as a way to protect herself, not to mention it was fantastic practice for staying in character in situations and she felt very accomplished to have come up with such a simplistic rehearsal technique.

She kept herself blocked off with these different fronts. If she never gave herself completely away again, she wouldn't have to worry about losing herself.

There was Drive Rachel: Confident, sure of herself and her image, the girl who belongs in NY and is more than happy to be single, outgoing and encouraging.

Shy Rachel: Quirky, quiet, blushes easily when complimented by somebody in a private or public setting, fidgety, soft spoken

Sensitive Rachel: Revels in the small things that remind her of what used to be, sad, cries easily at movies, wants to be loved, a recluse and keeps to herself

And then the person nobody in New York had met yet.

Mike's Rachel: Sweet, silly, outgoing, confident of herself and her image, quirky, cries easily at movies, loves to cuddle, the girl who belongs in New York and just wants to be loved.

"Well, look at that. My social butterfly is spreading her wings. Sure thing, sweetheart." he said and she passed up the small term that he used. She realized some people just talk that way and so what if he happen to be older than her. So what if his leg happened to brush her jean clad one under the table. So what if he was handsome and charming. Maybe just…not as charming as somebody else. Although, that was part of the reason she was getting out tonight, right? Right.

"Perfect," she said excitedly. "I'll text you the address and when we're leaving and we can just meet out front." There were more comments of agreement, a bit of small talk and after hanging up, she took a deep breath to steady herself.

She went to slide her dress on, or more like shimmy, or tug it on. The dress was risky and if had not been for Patricia, Rachel would never have even looked at it twice. It hugged her minimal curves and seemed to emphasize the fullness of her bust. It emphasized the slopes of her body, from chest to stomach, stomach to hip, and then hip to thigh. The neck line was daringly low, dipping between her breasts and exposing her sternum. The pale skin seemed to contrast next to the dress. She almost felt naked, since this was definitely not her usual style. But, that's what was part of growing up, though, right? Changing and being pushed, no, shoved out of your comfort zone? Besides the wasn't Rachel Berry. This girl with the rising hem line on her though, the metallic heels that raised her stature could not be the same girl who loved Mike Chang. And nobody ever had to know that girl .

After meeting up with Patricia once more and numerous compliments to each other's outfits and touch ups, they were heading to this club, fake I.D.'s tucked into her clutch. They arrived and Rachel walked nervously, she felt eyes on her as they waited for Daniel. He didn't make aware his presence in the most expected way.

The first sign of his appearance was the hand on the small of her back that shot a chill through her spine, the next being a low whisper in her ear. "Damn, you look good," and at his low voice she identified the stranger. She felt a heat rising in her cheeks as she tucked a curl behind her ear, looking over at him. She noticed the stubble on his chin, the way his shaggy, cliché, "artist" hair laid on his forehead. He had piercing green eyes that she watched as they flickered to the exposed trail of skin on her chest and then back up. "So good," he repeated and she moved out of his touch, a little overwhelmed by his forward actions, feeling overanalyzed, invaded.

She retreated to Patrcia's side and after cautious greetings from her because of Rachel's reaction, Daniel grabbed Rachel's hand and pulled her to the front of the long queue. The bouncer eyes the two girls and a look of recognition came across his face as he looked at the male.

"Hey, Danny! My man!" He burst and after masculine handshakes and some quick explanation of, "They're with me," they walked inside, no need for the false pieces of information in Patricia's bag. The bass rushed into Rachel's ears, seeming to invade her personal space and vibrate over her skin. It reminded her a mixture of the New Year's Eve party she had escaped from (with Mike) and the karaoke "bar" she had gone to (with Mike).

Almost immediately Daniel's hand let go of her hand and moved to her back, dangerously close to an area of invasion. She followed his direction as he led her through the crowd of people. They ended up at the bar, a shiny reflective surface with stools that she dared not sit in as it might cause her dress to rise and she wanted to avoid the awkward action of pulling it down if she got uncomfortable.

"Can I have one for the lady?" He called over the music to the bartender, also ordering a drink for himself. With a nod from the man, Rachel crossed her arms, not having had time to decline the drink, like she promise herself she would, as she was busy trying to keep herself contained and separated from the rest of the bodies pulsating against each other around her.

She looked around for her friend, having seen that she was already paired up with some guy. She noticed he wasn't attractive in the least, he moved awkwardly and he was lanky and his proportions were far from average. Patricia was good at strategizing and Rachel picked up her strategy right away. She was just going to have some fun, knowing a guy like that would feel lucky to have her dancing with them and she wouldn't end up with some pervert. Not to mention, she looked like she was already having a lot of fun.

The drink was sat in front of Rachel and she cast Danny a wary glance and he picked up his own drink. "Come on, loosen up, it's on me," he said with that cocky smirk you might only be able to find on the face of an older man who was now in a club with a younger girl, before taking a swig. She did as he said and swallowed the bitter liquid, feeling the warmth fill her stomach and course through her veins. It seemed to emphasize the things around her, the energy running through her every pulse.

Rachel always knew that she couldn't drink much and she would be slurred and clumsy. So, as he kept getting drinks for her, she kept putting them back. It must have been four in that she cut herself off. She'd always been a lightweight and the fact she even let herself get to four was kind of worrying.

She didn't seem notice that he'd been nursing the same beer during this time, but he had, so when she stumbled on to the dance floor, he took her and directed her through the people once more.

Rachel, being a widely established needy drunk, held on the shirt at his stomach desperately as the made their way through the crowd. Then they stopped and suddenly the fabric wasn't under her hand anymore and even in the busy room she felt alone. That is before she felt the warmth of a body pressed right behind her. Her thoughts were fuzzy an unsure, but his hands were on her hips and she could feel his fingers pressing into the material like they were burning through, or at least trying to.

She leaned her weight back against the presence and for some reason she couldn't remember exactly who it was that supposed to be standing behind her, but his arms were warm and she remembered when they used to wrap around her and keep her safe. Soon enough the body was moving, hips rolling forward and pressing forward to her backside. The movements were fluid and his joints lithe. His frame was thin and tall, his arms toned as she could tell when her hands were running up and down them. She closed here eyes, reveling in the movements of this familiar body.

She felt her hair being moved and lips being pressed to her neck. She gasped slightly but kept moving because it was so nice to feel warm again, to be this close to him. And he was being good to her again, even after everything that happened. She heard low murmurs, the words jumbling together but something about, "Let's get out of here," was caught by her ear and he grinded his crotch forward once more, her feeling, but not really being aware of the hardness in his pants.

She stumbled through the people and recognized the woman's restroom sign as it came into view. The door was pushed open hurriedly and luckily nobody else was there as he dragged her by the wrist into the stall.

The tile was hard and it pressed into her back as hands pushed her body to the wall. Soon, lips were covering her's and they were wet and warm and anxious. The kiss was sloppy and in any other situation gross but she now contribute the lack of romanticism to her intoxication and low level of coherency. The only thing that matter was that he was kissing her again an she didn't care if the kiss tasted of beer, it was him. She let her hands move up his stomach-wait, that wasn't nearly as firm as it used to be, was it? Well, in the last few months he must have gained some weight. That was it.

They made their way up to his hair, gripping lightly. Was that longer or was it just her imagination? She felt small whiskers scratching her chin and that couldn't be right. He probably just let himself go since they broke up. That had to explain it.

His hands dropped lower to her bare thighs and her stomach dipped like she had just gone down a hill on a rollercoaster, her heart sped up and she clutched at his hair more desperately, trying to keep his lips in place. They were rough and forceful and not in anyway gentle like they used to be. He was rushing soon he was making his way down her body. She felt a small wet circle just above her knee and she let out a soft slurred moan, knowing it was his lips. Her leg lifted, her calf rubbing against his arm as he was know lower towards the ground and she wanted as much contact as possible because she missed it so very much.

She felt a hand pushing her dress up, the still, cold air hitting the newly exposed skin and she kept a hand tangled in his hairs as she shivered. The kisses moved ever so slightly higher and higher, the dress pushed up her thigh more, but it was okay. She'd always wanted this with him. And she still wanted it now. His fingers inched to the hem of her dress, which was now exposing her underwear the slightest bit, the pale pink peeking out. His tongue ran a hot stripe on her thigh and she let out a louder noise, wanting more.

"Oh, Mike, please. Please, Mike," she whispered and suddenly left her calf being gripped, the body at her legs stiffening.

"Who the hell is that?" She heard a low growl, a rough, angry voice able to pierce the alcohol induced haze. Her eyes snapped open in shock as the man stood up eye level with her, towering over her.

The stubble didn't look attractive anymore, it looked dirty, his hair looked greasy, stringy, and unkempt. His green eyes that had looked so endearing now resembled the color of rotten, moldy asparagus that disgusted her to her very core. She could see it in his eyes, his pupils were dilated and his gaze was intent, focused. He was sober and the lust in his stare seemed to burn through the fog in her brain. She realized it was not the man she had so easily convinced herself it was.

His sweaty, rough palm grabbed her wrist in a jerky fashion, causing her to stumble.

"I said, who the hell is that?" She stuttered over her words, her free hand running through her hair as she tried to get her wrist from him and simultaneously settle her breathing.

He had a good question. Who the hell was Mike? A friend? Not the last time she checked. Boyfriend? Certainly not. Acquaintance? Maybe, but would that be a good enough response for Danny to let her go? Not likely. She shook her head slightly.

"Nobody, he's nobody. I need to.." She choked out and pulled her wrist, trying to reclaim her own body. "Go. Please?" She said softly and he laughed darkly and dipped his head down to her neck. She felt her pulse quicken, not excitement or adrenaline, pure fear soaked her muscles, causing them to tense. She hastily tried to push her dress down and just as she reached the fabric he caught her other wrist.

"You're just like all those other girls, aren't you?" He said bitterly, like maybe he'd expected more. That maybe she was some kind of closet whore and would put out for him. That maybe her shyness was an act that wasn't just hiding the emotional aspect but the physical as well. But that was hardly true. "You little tease. I bet you got a boyfriend back home. That your boyfriend's name?" She shook her head frantically and she could see the smirk on his face grow. "He ever touched you, babe? Touched you like I can?" He asked huskily directly into her ear and she squirmed.

He then captured both of her wrists in one meaty grip, putting her hands over her head. She winced as the action contorted her body and caused the tile to dig into her lower back uncomfortably.

"Please…just..stop," she begged and tried to recall the defense classes her fathers made her take before she moved. Foot to crotch. Heel of hand to nose. Fingers to eyes. Flattened palms to ears. Sensitive spots that only took small actions. The thing was, most of those needed free hands, which she didn't have at the moment. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as his hot wet breath was removed from her neck. She was too in shock to scream, to cry, to be with all her might for his release, but to say she had sobered up quickly was an understatement.

Her thoughts were still burry around the edges but she knew what was happening and she knew it was not right. She heard shuffling, the crumpling of plastic, the ripping of a package, and the small whisper of the wrapper falling to the floor. Then,

A zipper.

And her fighting kicked in, because to him she may be some poor defenseless little college student, but she knew better. She was Rachel Berry. She never let anybody do anything to her that she didn't want. She stood up for herself. And she fought back. She moved her arms as much as possible, struggling and straining against his firm hold on her and within the second his hand had moved back to her wrist.

"Come on. Don't fight, sweetheart. You know you want this." He said, commanding her, telling her wha to feel and that was a big no in her book. She felt pressed against her wrist in his palm a small circle of thin plastic. The material was easily recognizable to her and she knew this was it. Without another hesitation she raised her knee with all the force she could muster and it collided with his, luckily, jean clad groin.

He let out a very unmanly sound that might have been found humorous in other circumstances, but she only saw it as her opportunity to escape. His hands dropped and he doubled over. Her eyes opened and she saw him, having fallen on the floor, condom packed beside him and she took a small second, a dangerous one at that, and with the heel of her shoe jabbed him hard in the stomach. She immediately pulled her dress back down to it's appropriate length and pushed her way out of the stall an the restroom, clumsily taking her shoes off as she did.

Almost like Patricia had known something was wrong, she was frantically searching around the room, looking over the heads taller than her by standing on a bar stool, receiving numerous woops at her attempts find Rachel. Just a glance at the perfect timing and the shimmer of Rachel's dress coming out of the bathroom caught her eye.

Rachel quickly looked back with wide fearful eyes, scared that he might get up and follow her. Her lipstick was smudged and her hair was messy. Patricia didn't need any other kind of hint and they were shoving their way through the crowd to each other. After some soft reassurance from Patricia and the springing of tears to Rachel's eyes they made their way outside, Patricia immediately trying to catch a cab.

It took a few moments and Rachel had begun to cry harder, Patricia looking around nervously, just trying to get away. Finally a cab stopped and then got in, landing in the back seat in a heap, Rachel immediately hugged Patricia who murmured the address of Rachel's apartment.

"God, Rach, what the hell happened to you?" She mumbled and in response all she got was the shake of her head and the wiping of tears on her shoulder. "It's okay, it's going to be okay," she comforted softly and Rachel pushed away from her.

"No, no it's not going to be okay." She said loudly, causing the driver to wince at her volume. "It's not going to be okay, because I can't do anything without thinking about him! I can't go out and have fun without thinking that he's here with me! I can't sing Fiddler on the Roof without thinking that maybe if matchmakers were still around they would match me with Mike because then I would have to be with him! Don't you get it? Everything's not okay!" She said hysterically and Patricia flinched away. "_**I'm**_ not okay!" She screamed and Patricia closed her eyes, willing herself not to blow up at Rachel in such a sensitive position.

Rachel turned her back and rested her forehead against the cool glass window. They sat in silence for a few moments until Rachel felt Patricia moving closer once more. Her arms were wrapped around her and at least now she knew she was safe. She let her tears roll down her cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away because she knew more would just replace them. Rachel choked out the only other words she spoke on their ride home.

"This will go away one day, right?"

And though Patricia halfheartedly believed her own answer, she nodded confidently.

For Rachel.


	21. Yes, Sir

AN:Yes, this chapter was much faster than all the other's because I knew exactly where I wanted to go next and I knew exactly what I wanted to happen. I'm pretty you will like the direction this is headed. No-love the direction this is headed, because I sure do. Oh and reviews pretty please! :)

Fun fact:The only music I listened to while writing this chapter was the Adele vs. Skrillex Set Fire to Everybody mix thing, Crazy Girl by Eli Young Band, Cute is What We Aim For's Risque, Want You Gone from the Portal Soundtrack, and Fix You by Coldplay (which actually caused me to tear up a few times while writing this. Not sure why…but, yeah.). An odd mix, I know, but I'm grateful because they somehow helped me write. (:

So, how this worked was this chapter and the next were actually written as one chapter, but it ended up being freakishly long and there was more I wanted to add, so the cut off may seem odd, but it was necessary and the next chapter will be up very, very soon.

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><p>"You still love her, don't you?"<p>

It was a blunt question, one that should have been fairly simplistic to answer had he heard it correctly, seeing as it had been months-6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days to be exact-since he'd even talked to her. Could an emotion like love still exist? Or even like? No, that's not possible.

"Mike, answer me."

She didn't call him Michael when she was serious like Rachel did. She didn't like his hair down and free so she could play with it like Rachel did. She didn't trace the palm of his hand like Rachel did. She didn't stay conserved and take things slow like Rachel did. She didn't keep herself from falling too fast, like Rachel did. She didn't tease him with her words like Rachel did. She didn't hold his hand like Rachel did. She didn't kiss him like Rachel did. She didn't love him like Rachel did.

"What?"

He shook his head, trying to get focused again. Right, let's start from the top.

Where are you, Mike?

He looked around the room, right, a restaurant. And they're eating, he looked down, dim sum. Okay, easy enough. He looked up.

Oh.

Tina. Right. He was with Tina right now. And then it all came back to him. There was this heavy burden in his pocket like lead, weighing down his pants, almost threatening to pull them down around his ankles. It pressed against his hip uncomfortably and he was very aware of its presence and he knew that Tina was aware of it too, though she couldn't see it.

"What?"

He asked again, this time meeting her dark eyes that rolled in annoyance. She did that a lot; got annoyed at him for the little things, like kicking his shoes off in her living room floor before they cuddled. Or if his shirt got left somewhere she always made him pick it up, she didn't want to keep them. She said they smelled like sweat and a combination of his mom's perfume and the candles that were always lit in his house's bathroom. Although, Rachel always seemed to like how he smelled. She even told him that one day.

He had kissed the top of her head, took in the lingering smell of her lavender shampoo and smiled. She had been laying on top of him on the couch, arms crossed on his chest, head down and he was almost certain she was asleep, or about the be anyway. That is until she looked up at him, chin propped on the back of her hands.

"I like when you do that," she said simply and kicked her feet behind her like a small child. He remembered laughing softly and he raised an eyebrow, not quite sure what she meant.

"And what's that?" She grinned, and it was one of those proud ones when she was glad the dialogue of the conversation went her way so she could correctly answer the questions the way she would like to, to either embarrass or compliment him.

"I like when you smell me," she said with a childish tilt on the end of her inflections. It was playful and it caused Mike to sit up right, taking her with him. His eyes widened as he seemed panicked, he shook his head in denial as his cheeks turned red.

'I, I…no, I didn't smell you," he said like that would have been weird or crazy (but her shampoo smelled really good) and she laughed, adjusting her body on his and putting her legs on other side of his, watching him carefully as she noticed the skin of his cheeks turn a pale red. She lifted and hand to his hair, pushing it back and didn't really look in his eyes, it was almost like she was looking past him, but her eyes dropped in time with her hand.

"Don't be embarrassed," she said softly and her hands gently moved up to toy with the fabric of his polo and she smiled, more like she was laughing at an inside joke rather than smiling at him. "I mean, I..I like to do that too." She admitted and leaned forward to him, pressing her ear to his chest and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her with him as they laid back down.

"You smell…warm," she tried to put her odd attraction to that into words. "I can…" she paused. Did she want to continue and make a fool of herself? At that moment, continuing seemed like the only logical option. "I can smell your house…those cute little decorative tea light candles your mom has all over the place. And…I can smell your cologne and then there's the little bit of cinnamon or…something that mixes with…you , or maybe that is you and I just…" She turned her head to his chest and his hand was on her back, almost like he was soothing her, telling her it was okay, she could continue because to him it made perfect sense.

"And sometimes, when we're sleeping," she whispered, "Like this." She moved, pulling him and he complied with her actions until they were both laying on their sides, facing each other, with her looking up at him. "I like to just…" she hesitantly grabbed parts of his shirt, balling them in her small fists and in a hug of sorts she pressed against his chest once more, this time closing her eyes to take in the smell, the warmth, the heat of another person.

And like a slap to the face she had realized how weird this must have all sounded, but she didn't move, she just hoped her words would be enough. "I'm… I'm sorry. This probably sounds like I should be put in an asylum or something, but…" she paused for the shortest second. "You make me feel warm, Michael." She said as if that were all she needed in the world was to be enveloped by that warm scent that he carried with him like a leech and be wrapped up in those arms, legs tangled, bodies close. And maybe it was all she needed at that moment. And it was what she had needed so desperately that morning she left for the airport. She must not have needed it anymore, though.

He had laughed softly, but the tone wasn't that of putting her down, it was fun and playful and understanding all wrapped into one short tone of his laughter. She smiled and he spoke. "It's okay, don't be embarrassed," he supplied and she just rolled her eyes, using one of her already clenched fists to hit his chest.

"Hello? Earth to Mike! Are you still there? What's wrong with you today?" He shook his head once more, being pulled back from his thoughts again and meeting those cold eyes he'd got used to in the recent days and he assumed he would definitely need to get used to them in the near future if it was going to go the way her father planned.

"Sorry, I'm just…tired." He said and then reached his hand across the table to take her's, assuring her that he was okay. He expression morphed to a smile and he forced one in return, the smile not meeting his eyes, but just really a show so that she would be happy.

She changed to an expression of warmth and squeezed is hand before forcing their fingers to interlace, unnaturally, awkwardly, but she didn't seem to notice. She never did. Not how when they laid beside each other her leg didn't just naturally lay over his. Not how when they hugged she was just an odd height to which it was weird for him to bend down and equally so for her to rock up to her toes, since neither actions could done completely. How when they kissed their lips didn't match up just right. She didn't even notice how, sexually, the chemistry just wasn't there. He didn't think she would ever notice.

Whenever their kisses got heated, his heart didn't pound faster and his head didn't beg for more. He wasn't always eager to take things to the next step and now he felt like he was leading Tina on, giving her a false hope, but he couldn't help it, because she was here and she was tangible and Rachel wasn't. She was this untouchable lost love entity. With Tina it was always enough. Rachel, it was like he could never get enough, even when more wasn't being offered.

Not to mention the fact that he didn't want to have sex, frustrated her to no end.

"I don't get it!" She yelled one time, beating his chest with her fists when she had straddled him, pinned him down and practically begged for it. And he just shook his head, refusing to give in to it, because he learned what respect meant. He learned the meaning of that kind of action with somebody and he wasn't just going to waste his feelings for something like that when he didn't know how tomorrow would turn out.

"Why won't you touch me like you used to, Mikey?" And he cringed at the pet name as she leaned down to kiss his neck. It wasn't sweet, it was an attempt to be seductive, but it didn't seem to be working. His hands rested delicately on her hips, not being able to find just the right curve or slope where they were supposed to fit. Because maybe they weren't. He didn't let himself linger on those thoughts too much.

Tina pressed her hips forward in some provocative action to entice him and it just frustrated him more because she didn't seem to understand. Everything had to be explained, detailed or else she couldn't process it. He grabbed her hips more firmly now, not caring if it didn't work just right, but pushed her, gently at that, off of him and on to the bed. He stood up and attempted to storm out of the room before he heard her voice like he used to. It cracked and was small, weak, defenseless. He told himself numerous times not to give in to that voice, promise himself he wouldn't and yet now it only made sense.

"I'm sorry, baby," she said and he squeezed his eyes shut, standing in her doorway. He heard shuffling, the mattress moving and soon she was standing behind him, hands making there way around his waist and she slid them over his stomach, resting the palms on his abs and her cheek close to his shoulder blade. His muscles stiffened and he wanted to shy away, but that would have been rude, so he didn't. "Please…" she kissed his clothed shoulder. "Please.." Kiss. "Please forgive me."

And he would.

And they'd kiss.

And repeat.

"So, will you answer my question, now?" She asked and he didn't know how he kept getting pulled away from her. There was nothing their keeping his attention, he realized, and it was a lost cause. He nodded and then waited, like she was supposed to repeat first because honestly, he couldn't remember how his thought process started.

"You still love me, don't you?" She asked innocently and right…that's how it started, because that wasn't the question he had heard the first time, because that wasn't what he had to ask himself if she wanted an honest answer and after reviewing the evidence, an honest answer isn't what she wanted at all.

"Of course. Why would you think that I didn't?" He asked, that fake smile plastered to his lips and the small box seeming like an infinite weight in his pocket.

That small box that held an even smaller token.

A ring.

Yes. And not of his doing. If he never even had to see that ring he would have made sure he hadn't. In the time that he started dating Tina again, a lot of conversations with her father were held about how his daughter deserved respect, a bright man with a future and Mike could be that guy. Mike would just nod.

"Yes, sir."

He would say, because Tina was here and Tina could be in his arms and Tina could love him. And that, "Yes, sir" would probably be his biggest regret and yet it was all he could do not to say it, because this situation should have made sense. He should have wanted to say it, he remembered the circumstances vividly. He had been backed into a corner, quite literally, by her father.

"Look, son, what are you're intentions with daughter?" He asked Mike when Tina had said to give her about ten minutes. Which in reality meant, "I'm insecure about this, so I'm going to leave you and my father with some bonding time, okay? Oh, wait, you don't really have choice." Or at least that's what it felt like.

"Sir, I don't understa-"

"You plan to continue dating my daughter, yes?" He so rudely interrupted and Mike sat back in his chair, trying to maintain a distance as his intimidating volume and the solidity of his voice almost scared him.

"Yes, sir." For as long as he was able to stand her is what he would have tacked on to the sentence, but he was a better person than that and honestly, Tina wasn't all bad. She was sweet and caring and they had good days, but whether they outweighed the bad or not was a constant debate.

"Mike, you're a smart young man," he stated to which Mike nodded in agreement. "You take care of my daughter and she loves you. You make her happy." Hearing her father say that was like a realization that this was a mistake, a huge mistake, because he wasn't nearly as invested and as her father seemed to think he was and he feared the direction this was heading. He knew her parents and the family she was in, they got married young, started families young, moved out of the house young. Did everything almost too soon, too fast and he was sure that this was his way of encouraging his daughter to do the same. He was worried mostly, because collectively Tina and him had dated over a year. In her parent's mind plenty of time to start thinking of-

"Look, I'm not going to lie. I know you've had your pitfalls. Trust me, I've never seen my little girl so hurt before, but I trust you Mike. Because she trusts you, so you better not take advantage of that. And I know that every relationship has their weaknesses and in time you two will work out yours." And yet slowly his heart was sinking though he was gaining the approval of her father. Ultimately did it amount to anything? It wasn't like he planned on marr-

"Yes, sir." He replied robotically and her father smiled one of those genuine smiles that crinkled the corners of his eyes and Mike just stayed stiff and nervous.

"Look, I know you're both still young, but I want you to take this." Mike's entire being rejected the idea of what could be pulled out of the man's coat pocket. And yet, there it was the little box that held that little ring. "I have a feeling you already know what this is," and Mike nodded mechanically, not having words to refuse the offer as his arm outstretched. "You don't have to use it any time soon," Although Mike knew he wanted him to, "It's an heirloom and Tina's mother decided that she wanted to give it to you, because we have a very good feeling about you and our little girl." And there was a warmth in his face and that made this all the worse. "Go on, take it, it won't bite." He joked and like his hand had a mind of its own it reached up to grab the box.

"Yes, sir."

The transfer was made and so was all the expectations of holding this object in his hand. He carried it around with him, constantly pulling it out to look at it when he was alone. He would run his fingers over the small diamonds, the band, and he would put it back in the box and later on do the same thing. All the while thinking about how much easier it would be if he could just get it over with. Ask Tina and then move on, finally. He wouldn't have to hurt her, or her parents, and he would be forced to let go of what couldn't happen. But as much as he wanted to force himself, he couldn't convince himself of the lies that everything would be okay if he could just say those four words.

He fumbled with the box in his pocket at the table now, maybe one more glance at the ring could aid in his efforts.

"Tell me again. Why you love me," she said sweetly, as if her words weren't putting him in the strenuous situation of developing characteristics about her that no longer appealed to him anymore. He thought for a moment longer. If he said the things he told her before, it would be even more of a lie than it ever was. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the small ring box, releasing her hand and placing it on the table in front of her.

"Oh, Mike," she exclaimed softly, a hand flying to her chest in fake excitement. She knew already. She expected it, hell, anticipated it and he mustered the courage to say the words he had needed to say for a long time.

"I need to go," he blurted abruptly and stood up, chair screeching as it scraped the floor. He pulled his wallet out and tossed and few bills on the table to pay for himself and turned to leave without another word. He hear the shuffling of Tina behind him and stopped when her hand made contact with his wrist.

"Wait, Mike, where are you going? We aren't done eating and…don't you need to ask me something?" And he could practically see that smile that was a cross between mischief and feigned innocence on her face without having to turn around.

"No." He replied simply. "I said that I need to go." He felt her grip tighten on his wrist and he closed his eyes. He remembered what he promised himself that night on the roof that seemed like another lifetime, another world. Don't give in, Mike. Don't do it.

"Hey, just sit back down, we can finish eating and then talk about everything, okay?" She sounded like a mother, like she was trying to convince him to eat his vegetables, a completely unappealing idea. "And then you can ask me the question you've been wanting to ask." She said as her hand dropped to his and she intertwined their fingers.

He pulled his hand away and turned to face her and her eyes widened, like she was just now realizing that her plans were not what he had in mind. He shook his head the slightest bit and she opened her mouth to say more and he cut her off. "Tell me you think this would be right. Tell me that your have no doubt in your mind that I love you. Tell me that I should get on one knee right here. Tell me that you think we fit together, that we work together. Tell me that you that you think the good days outweigh the bad."

Tears were welling in her eyes and she avoided I contact and he continued speaking. "You're not saying anything, because you can't. You honestly can't say that those things are true. So, like I said, I need to go." She crossed her arms in front of her and then stepped forward to Mike, just slightly undoing her hands to hold on to him and he sighed and wrapped his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She mumbled against his shirt.

"Where are you going?" And he let her out of the hug, too long of that kind of embrace and who knew what she would attempt from that distance. He pushed his hands into his pockets and shrugged as he stated his destination, not sure if she would catch the exact meaning of it.

"New York," he said simply and for a moment she looked at him like he was insane to randomly leave Lima for New York, because they were both sure they would never get out of this place. Then, he saw her expression change to that of recognition, it was an obvious change, but he didn't expect the next words.

"You're going to see her, aren't you?" She looked down as she asked, and she already knew the answer, but she didn't want to admit she knew it. Maybe she'd known the whole time that he still held on to Rachel despite the distance and the lack of contact, but it was easier to savor Mike while it lasted instead of just pushing him away.

He nodded and so she did in return. He felt a wave of relief, as she wasn't mad, she didn't yell at him for wanting to go see Rachel, she didn't cry that he was leaving her again, she hardly even reacted and he wondered if she would later. If she would go to her room and cry, but by the look on her face he saw Tina's strength. She was every bit as strong as Rachel was, just lacking the confidence, so he assured himself that Tina would be okay.

"See you around, T," he said simply and when she smiled, he did as well. It was an odd moment of realization for the both of them and to say that her parting words shocked him was an understatement. He would never forget that moment. She laughed softly, looked up at him, eyes looking bright and open and warm and said.

"Go get her." He didn't know how to reply, so he just turned away and ran. He ran like he'd never ran before in his life. He'd never used as much force behind each stride before and he got to his car in seconds, hopping in and knowing his first destination.

Her house.

Well, her fathers' house.


	22. Crystal

AN: This is actually more like part 2 of the last chapter, but I wanted to break it up somewhere. (: The ONLY song I listened to while writing this chapter was Fix You by Coldplay. (Nope, not the Glee version, sorry kids. I like me some Coldplay.) Anyway! Review pretty, pretty please! I love you guys for all the feedback and I don't know how I'm ever going to end this story. :P

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><p>He ran stop signs, red lights, and sped, whatever he could get away with, because he wasn't waiting anymore. He'd done enough of trying to figure things out and he knew now, after months of hurt and pain, that there was really only one way to fix this. If it meant leaving Lima if she would take him back, so be it.<p>

He pulled up to the house that he hadn't been in, been to, in ages. He climbed out of his car without even bothering to turn it off, he was in a hurry and if her fathers cared at all, they would be willing to help him in his efforts. He got to the door and after making a moment of hesitation, took the plunge and knocked on the door.

Moments later, that seemed like an eternity, the door opened to a very shocked man and there was no time to explain. The real problem was that Mike had deleted Rachel's number, and he was sure that she had done the same. Even if he hadn't, he was informed by one Kurt Hummel that her number had been changed upon moving, and that was no good.

"Hello, Mr. Berry, I need Rachel's new number." The man looked stunned, he hadn't seen this boy around in months and suddenly he's at is door asking for his daughter's number. That hardly seemed right.

"Mike, I don't think I ca-" He started to refuse to hand over the number, to keep Mike from contacting her, from hurting her again, because that was the absolute last thing he wanted.

"Please, please, sir. I.." he swallowed nervously, desperate to get some kind of contact, anything. "I just need to see her…and talk to her." Her father's eyebrow raised in questioning at the part about seeing his daughter. She didn't plan on coming until Christmas, which was still a little way away. "I'm…I'm taking the first flight to New York I can find. I just…I really need her number so that I can find her once I'm there." Her father shook his head confidently.

"Mike, I don't think that's such a good idea. Rachel is settled down there and she's…she's happy." Functioning was more like it, the calls they received from her were short and concise and she never had much to report except how her classes were going.

"With all due respect, sir, I believe that this is actually the best idea I've had in months." The man looked wary as this had been the same boy who had broken his daughter to pieces. He didn't know the full story, but he knew enough and that alone should have got him thinking that Mike had no place in Rachel's life, but his mind was debating otherwise.

"Unless I regards one of your mutual friends and they can not tell her themselves, then I cannot provide you with that kind of information." Her father worded his requirements carefully, eying the young man and practically seeing the gears turning in his head. A part of him wanted to give Mike the digits, because maybe it would help Rachel to get closure of some sort, but he couldn't be sure unless he gave up that information. Mike hurriedly came up with something.

"Umm…it's Tina!" He said quickly and was proud of himself for being able to at least tell half of the truth. On her father's face was the first showings of a small smile, because he wanted nothing more than for his daughter to be happy. And Mike made her happy. "She said to, uhh, go get her. Got get Rachel. And I can't do that without her number." He father nodded and after producing his phone, put Rachel's cell in it.

Having this kind of detail was scary to Mike in that all he had to do was press one button and he could be connected with her again. She wouldn't recognize the number on her new line, which was his intention in the first place. Or, maybe she would. He told himself not to call her until he was already in New York. Or else she would tell him not to come, to leave her alone and that she'd moved on and he couldn't take that. After thanking the man and a firm handshake, Mike was jogging back to his car, getting in and immediately taking off. He didn't bother to buckle until he actually stopped at a red light due to the traffic at the intersection.

He didn't bother to tell his parents was leaving, and he didn't have the patience or time to pack. Or at least he didn't think so and although the drive wasn't terrible long to the airport, it was still too long for his liking.

Arriving he knew it wasn't going to be easy to get a flight last minute, but he was going to try. The fact that he had no bags was sure to help his ease of access. He parked and ran to the airport as fast as he could, pushing through the doors and people on his way. He scanned the environment quickly and eyed a short queue and got in line, impatiently pacing back and forth all the while. More like shooting hurried glances to the people in front of him to see if they were going to take too long.

After another bout of frustrated time that seemed to last too long he reached the counter.

"Hello, how may I help you?" The woman dressed in formal attire asked him in a flat tone. Her eyes looked tired, like she was done with people. Done with her job. So, Mike decided to strategize.

"Okay, look." And immediately she raised a questioning eyebrow at him for having such a demeanor with her. "I have this card," he continued without faltering and pulled out the credit card from his pocket and laid it on the counter. "All you have to do is swipe it on your computer. I don't care how much it costs, and find me the soonest flight to New York. Just do it and I'll be out of your hair in five minutes max. I won't complain about what seat you put me in and I don't have any bags, or a carry on, or pets."

The woman kept a straight face and without a word picked up the card and swiped it in one motion. He broke into a smile as she placed it back in front of him. He picked it up and tapped it nervously on the counter as he heard the clicking alternating from her mouse to her keyboard.

"The only flight I can find is leaving," she paused and looked up to the clock hanging behind her on the otherwise blank wall. "In about ten minutes, and that's not enough time to get through security. Plus, the only tickets are first class and-"

"I said, I don't care." Mike replied simply and she shook her head look back at him with a firm gaze.

"Sir, I don't think you understand. The tickets will just go to waste, it will take you ten minutes just to get to your gate. If you just wait until-"

"I can't wait. I've waited long enough. I'll the ticket." Sure, it was ridiculous to pay this amount and at the rate she was causing this to extend to, of course he wouldn't make it, but he had to try. He had to get to her, to talk to her, to see her, to hold her as soon as possible. She sighed heavily and produced the ticket to him, regardless of her warnings and grinned feeling the paper between his fingers that was his medium to getting to Rachel.

"Thank you so much," he said quickly and he jumped up, placing his palms on the counter leaned forward and lifted his feet off the ground, not having to worry about hitting anybody because they were a few feet behind hi at a barrier and as he did he stretched and place a quick kiss on the woman's cheek.

As he ran off, he swore he saw her smile and really, if that made her day, that was just a plus because she had already made his year. He sprinted once more, and following the signs placed around the airport (really, why didn't people do that more often?) he found the gate in no time. He arrived, breathing heavily but obeyed the security instructions carefully, quickly, and respectfully and that helped improve the time, him eventually running once more to the actual plane, barefoot and was greeted with smiles from the flight attendants.

He made his way to his seat, as they briefed the passengers and he sat down in a huff, glad he at least had a jacket on so that now, when he was getting overheated, he could peel it off for the duration of the flight.

He tried to think out a plan to do once he got there. Would he call her right away? Maybe find a place to stay so he wouldn't feel like he was imposing first. Or maybe wait a few days before actually finding her, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't wait days, because in days his parents would be mad. In days that might be the hour that passed that she forgot about him and she couldn't do that. He wouldn't let her forgot about him, because as much as he tried to function without her, he couldn't.

Simply put, he missed her. With every inch of his being, as she was his drive. She encouraged him to do what he wanted, what he loved. To dance and pursue real dreams over listening to the ones his parents had planted into his brain since the moment he could say the words doctor or lawyer.

He couldn't sleep, couldn't even close his eyes for a moment on the flight. He thought though, he thought a lot. About her. About everything. About how he was going to explain why he wanted to see her, or why he was in New York. What had caused him to change his mind? Part of it was the fact that he retained almost every word that she had said to him to that day. The fact that he couldn't dance had to mean something, because dance was his life.

Things just didn't make sense without her and there was no way around that.

He thought about her eyes, and how it was weird how he almost didn't remember them, like there was something in the way that was keeping him from remembering them to their full extent. Her lips. After months of Tina being his only exposure, it was hard to remember the feel, the taste. He thought of her hands and how he couldn't wait to hold them again, if he would let her. He hoped with all his might that she was still open to him, that maybe there was at least a sliver of her that still cared for him, because there was a lot of himself that cared for her.

The time seemed to pass quickly now and you wouldn't hear him complaining, because as they landed he was the first one out and he pulled his jacket back on as he made his way through the much busier airport. He got outside and the cold was like a slap in the face, shocking him and keeping him wide awake and aware. He didn't even know where to begin. So, he got in a cab and told them to drive.

"Just go," he said in response to the question of the driver of his destination, because honestly he didn't know it. He pulled his phone out, nervously scrolling through the phonebook past her name and then back up and past it again. He didn't know what he was doing, distracting himself mostly as he was too worried about anything else at the moment. The man drove up and down streets until they arrived at a part of the town that was less busy than the rest, that didn't mean it wasn't busy at all. Big difference, there.

He noticed the cab fare was racking up after a quick glance and decided to stop here before it got too far or before he got to where he didn't have any clue where he was. The man took his card without question and after paying and an exchange of thanks, Mike was standing on the sidewalk. He observed the people, watching the majority of the way people were going and decided to go with the traffic.

He stepped into the many people and began walking, wondering all the while if maybe she had walked this street, seen these same people. Maybe upstairs she was staying in one of those apartments he was walking under right at that moment. He knew he had to call her.

He stepped out of the moving crowd and into a small place, a restaurant and after turning down some offers from waiters and telling them he was waiting for somebody, he was free to call. This place wasn't crowded, so volume control wasn't a problem.

After fumbling with the buttons for a moment. He did it. He pressed the green button and listened to the rings, so it was a good number at least. He paced, avoiding people and put his hand in his jacket pocket. He heard the line pick up and his breath caught.

"Hey, Rachel Berry's phone, how can I help you?" Said an unfamiliar voice on the other end. He hesitated it was her phone, right. So, why hadn't she answered? Little did he know that Rachel was just in the shower and Patricia was instructed by her to answer any call that came her way.

"Um, who is this?" he asked suddenly and he had no right to ask, but he did. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes at him and the annoyed huff she let out.

"I could ask you the same thing." Touché. "And I am. Who is this?" Mike took a deep breath and assure himself it was no big deal, just one of Rachel's friends.

"This is Mike Chang, Rachel's-" Good thing she interrupted, because he had no idea where he was going with the latter statement.

"What?" She asked in a panic. "Hold on," she practically whispered and he could hear shuffling around and a knock from her end of the phone. "Hey, Rach, I'm stepping out for a sec, okay?" And after what must have been enough time for her to be acknowledge, he could hear a door being slammed, but it sounded like from a distance. All of a sudden her voice seemed amplified.

"What the hell are you doing calling her?" She asked quickly, her voice low and angry, like a hiss at him.

"Woah. Woah. Who are you to be asking me something like that? I can call whoever I want." He said defensively, having an idea who the unidentified person was.

"Oh, you probably don't remember me." She spat. "I'm Patricia," Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. "Oh, right, and I'm also the person that's got to see Rachel walk around here like a complete basket case because of you."

Mike winced and shook his head, no, no. That shouldn't be what's happening. She should have moved on by now, been happy. That's what he should have heard, not that she was…crazy? No, no, Patricia always exaggerated, he had learned that. And so, she must have been doing that. He could see Rachel still hurt, or something, but not to that extent.

"I..I need to talk to her." He said simply, disregarding her reaction to his phone call. He heard a dark laugh from the other end, almost like it was judging him for wanting that.

"Yeah, right." She said and his fist clenched in his pocket, jaw tightening in anger.

"Look, I get the whole, being a bitch thing, but right now, I don't need to deal with that. I'm in New York and I want to see my…" He hesitated. "Rachel. I want to see Rachel." He recovered quickly, hating that he'd been about to saying something else that shouldn't have been anywhere near his mind. She seemed to brush off the insult quite easily, he assumed because she had heard it before, but she was shocked by his confidence as he had always seemed like a quiet guy.

"I don't know what makes you think you have the right to just show up here and try to see her again, but I'm not letting you do that. She's just starting to figure things out and you're not going to mess that up for her." He thought for a moment and formed a rebuttal.

"Look, as much as I wanted to get her approval before I just showed up, I could just as easily get in touch with her dads and they would tell me her apartment. Her dad gave me her number, so obviously somebody is on my side. So, either way, I'm seeing her." Patricia nodded and crossed her arms, wishing she had another way to deny him access to her, but he was right.

"You're stubborn, you know that?" She said, like she was admitting her defeat in an off way, but he smirked.

"Yeah, I learned from the best." He said, not one hundred percent sure if he was referring to Rachel or the girl he was on the phone with at the moment. It was a close race.

"Ha. Cute." She said flatly and after spouting off the address for him she went on the defense. "Look, don't come here and try anything funny, got it? If you do, my boot plus your ass equals some new decoration for Time Square's side walk. Is that clear?" She asked snippy and although, she still didn't believe it was the best thing for Rachel, it just might help a little. God, she hoped so.

"Crystal."


	23. I Missed You

AN: PLEASE, PLEASE READ THE NOTE.

Before you ask any questions. Yes, this is the last chapter. As much as I hate to say it, it's over, you guys. It was awesome while it lasted, but I plan on doing some great Cherry things in the future, so stay tuned! I love all of you for reviewing and sticking with me through the writer's block and the quick chapter updates and everything in between. (:

You are all amazing and I'm going to miss seeing pretty little reviews pop up for this story, but there will be more, like I said. I want really badly to do some extreme AU writing, like something insane, but I'm not creative so I'm trying to work that out…and yeah.

I'm sorry if this didn't fulfill your fluffy needs after so long of the being apart and I really hope this story had a good balance of angst and happy and if not, please tell me what I could do better next time. Like I said, I love you all. (:

P.S. I apologize for dumb song lyrics. I came up with them on the fly. Whateva. I ain't even mad, bro.

P.P.S. I'm legit crying right now. Not because the chapter is sad, but because I hate to let these characters that I've developed go. Ugh. The woes of a writer. If you want to catch me on tumblr my URL is hiddentheatrewhore :) I normally post there when I plan on updating things and ideas and what not. (:

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><p>He went straight to her apartment, not hesitating for a moment, even if it meant walking against the consensus on the busy sidewalk. He caught a cab and stated the address that he typed in a text so there would be no way he could forget. He sat in the backseat, heart pounding furiously, like maybe it might just fall out and stain the cheap flooring of this cab, but no. His heart managed to stay intact the entirety of the ride, in fact in never even broke the skin, and he was sure he should have been grateful for that, but all he was, was worried.<p>

He didn't know the true condition of Rachel. Her father said she was happy and Patricia said she was insane and Mike was sure he was caught somewhere in between, because he was definitely happy to be seeing her in a matter of minutes, to be going up the elevator to her apartment right this second. And yet he still doubted his plan. Still though that he was crazy and stupid and when he would arrive she would turn him away and what was left of his little world would come tumbling in around him.

He made it to her floor and the moment there was enough space to fit through, he was squeezing through the elevatordoors, frantically searching for her apartment number. He ran to about three doors, trying to figure out the pattern of the numbers and once he got it, in a matter of seconds, he was taking off in the direction he knew would be her's. He found the door, simple silver numbers on the plain beige exterior.

He knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And he waited for the door to open. Would it be Patricia? Would it be Rachel? Maybe some guy they were having over? A different friend? How was he supposed to know who all she'd met in New York? He kept his eyes down at the bottom of the door. Then, it moved. The door knob moved, he swore it must have jiggled a bit, or at least wobbled. And it was turning now. He kept his head down as it was pulled open and the first sight he caught was flats. They were black and had a sheen and there was a small decorative buckle over the toe with a shine as well. He remembered the way the top of her foot curved to her ankle as there had been many a weekend they had laid and she kept her feet in his lap.

He slowly looked up, taking in each section of her at a time in what seemed like a life time, but would only amount to seconds. She wore a plaid skirt like she always had and the corners of his mouth turned up in seeing that New York hadn't changed that part of her. His vision raised and he saw her sweater clad torso and then neck, chin, lips, nose-

And then her eyes.

Her undeniably, unrestrained eyes that were bright and comforting and familiar. You could see the energy that she held in them, not at all cold or hurtful. Yet, it seemed like the moment his eyes met hers there was something she was trying to hide, or trying to keep him specifically from seeing. Her expression changed to that of almost fear. His mouth dropped.

Her initial reaction was shock. Sheer shock that this was the actual person standing in front of her. It wasn't possible. She wanted to reach out and touch him, kiss him, make sure he was palpable and real. And then she was worried, scared that something was wrong, that she would take him back to easily and hurt herself again. That she shouldn't be having these feelings for somebody that hurt her so much. She couldn't do it all over again and she knew that.

"What do you want?" She asked softly and there was her voice, the one he hadn't heard in months and yet it was so familiar. It was different though, than when he would recall situations, because before it seemed like there was a fog over it that was keeping it from it's true potential, but here it was in its purest form, coming straight from her lips. He swallowed nervously and it was like it took all his might to tell her the simplest of things.

"I want to talk to you," he said and took a step forward into the threshold and she shook her head taking a step back from him.

"Don't do this. Please, just don't." She said quietly and her voice caught at the end. He glanced up and Patricia was staring him down and he looked back to Rachel.

"Rach, please I just want to-" He had started moving towards her, hands out as he just simply wanted to be close to her and…she didn't want that in return.

"Don't touch me, Michael," she said flatly and his arms dropped. Patricia took a step forward as if maybe to push him back away from Rachel, but he respected her. He wasn't going to do something she didn't want, even if it was as simple as a hug.

"Why are you here?" She said and crossed her arms across her chest, putting a defensive front up, features looking unsteady, like at any moment she would break down, because she just might. Mike wasn't supposed to be here, he wasn't supposed to randomly show up and he wasn't supposed to want to talk. He was supposed to leave her alone, make this easier for the both of them.

"I missed you," he said weakly, like maybe he was already giving up hope. That maybe this was a ridiculous idea, that right now it was all going to fall apart, he was going to fall apart, because as much as he wanted things to be the same, they never could be, and he was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

"Please, don't say that," she said and took another step back, shaking her head and closing her eyes, because she was this close to giving in, because he was here. Did he want to talk to her and then go back to Lima? Hope they could work things out the second time around? No, she wasn't going to do that. She wasn't going to. She wasn't going to give in. She told herself that over and over, maybe that would aid in her attempts to resist.

"It's true, though." He defended himself and this time didn't attempt to get closer. He just took this time to look at her, as her eyes were closed he didn't feel weird about it. About tracing the lines of her body with his eyes, mostly the simple curves that he had missed so much, from chin to ear, nose to forehead, brow bone to temple, eye to cheek. Of course the others that he longed to make contact with, side to hip, sternum to breast, thigh to knee and then knee to calf. She could feel his eyes raking over her body like they had months ago, although this time she was fully clothed.

"No. It…you can't be. You're the one who wanted to stay. You wanted it this way." She said, because he's the one who said he couldn't go to New York and he's the one who left her bed that night. He's the one who didn't show up at the airport to beg her to stay. He's the one who hadn't called. He's the one that

"Don't you dare say that," he said angered at her statement and this time he got closer to her and her eyes flew open. Only this time she couldn't take a step back, because from here she could see the muscle of his shoulder, the tightening of the one in his jaw as well as the furrowing of his brow. She kept her hands tucked under her arms to keep from reaching out and touching him. "I never wanted it to be like this. You know that. You didn't want to try long distance. It was both of us. I was...I was stupid. I thought it would be easier. I thought it would be better for you and me and it wouldn't hurt as much if something happened. I just…it wasn't at all. And I really missed you, Rach." He trailed off and as he did her hand raised in a fist and hit his chest.

And it shouldn't have caused him to react the way he didn't. He shouldn't have felt glad that she had actually touched him, that she would actually consider ever touching him again, but it was contact and it was something and proved she was here. She repeated the action with her other fist and started speaking angrily.

"Stop that. Stop that. Stop that." With each stop her fist hit his chest and he hardly reacted, but her anger and frustration of the past months was being taking out on him, literally, as he was her human punching bag. "Don't talk like that." She said and stopped trying to hit him when his hands came up and grabbed her wrist to which she pulled away and he let her, as he could have easily kept her that close to him, wrists locked in his grasp. She felt the level of her frustration rising, as he internal feelings were conflicted and her thoughts had collided at some colossal intersection in her brain. "Don't call me that." She said angrily and pounded on his chest once more, even as much as she liked hearing it again. "Don't tell me stuff like that," One more hit, even as much as she wanted to tell him the same. "And don't you even think that you can come here and expect to get me back. Because, I have no reason to even be talking to you right now." Her wrists seemed to burn and as hurried as the contact was, it was warm and searing and to say she hadn't missed it would be a bold faced lie. She felt the familiar stinging in the corner of her eyes as tears balanced on her waterline. She had shed enough tears for him and he didn't deserve anymore.

"And I have no reason to be talking to you," he spat. "Even though you left me, I'm here. And I want to talk to you, because I care about you, Rachel Berry. You mean more to me than I can put into words and you won't even listen to the words that I can come up with." He said firmly, confident in his words as that was the most true thing he'd said in a while.

"I said stop it. Don't talk like that. Don't talk like nothing has changed." She said angrily and threw her arms out, stamping her foot like small child before tucking them back in on herself. "Don't come here and act like nothing has changed. Because it has. Everything has." She looked at him with a straight face, trying to make her seriousness hold an impact, as most of the time she was dramatic or overreacted. This was a very reasonable reaction.

"Not the important things." He said softly. "I'm still Mike. You're still Rachel." And he hesitated for nearly a second, because the words he was about to say were too easy for him to produce. And he didn't know if she would recognize the validity of them, and that scared the hell out of him, because he knew he would have to prove those words to her. "There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think about you. Everything I did reminded me of you," and she felt her heart sink as those words hit him. "Because I love you, Rachel."

She shook her head quickly and put her hands out, pushing on his chest as if directing him to leave. "No. No. No, you don't love me." She could hardly muster a whisper. He couldn't have just said that. It couldn't be true that those words still sent her stomach on a crazy trip and stirred those butterflies that seemed to have been resting just for his reappearance. "You **can't** love me." She said and then backed away, turning her back to him and once more using her arms to collapse in on herself and crossed them.

"I never stopped loving you. Not for a second. Because, I know **you** and things about you that nobody else does. And I love all of it." He said seriously. She turned back to face him and looked over at Patricia, maybe for a way out, to stop from hearing all that was about to be said, to stop Mike there because it was already too much. Patricia took that more of a sign to leave the room and before she did, Mike gave her a nod of thanks, appreciation, of assurance that nothing bad would happen.

"I know that every Friday night, you're fathers go on a date night." He said and she wanted to shrug, but didn't want to be rude. Anybody in Lima could have observed that, so her expression was one of not really caring. "I know that your dream role is to be Elphaba in Wicked." Okay, so at least he'd narrowed it down to McKinley. She lifted her hand up to her teeth and chewed on her thumb nail, not biting any off, just keeping herself busy. If he wanted to try and get her back that way, he was going to have to do a lot better than that. "I know that when you're frustrated you chew your thumb nail. Only your thumb nail. Like that." He said literally pointing out her habit that she was now practicing. Immediately her hand dropped back to tuck under her arm.

"That doesn't count," she mumbled embarrassed and only he could seem to produce that blush that was rising on her cheeks at this moment.

"I know that your shoes go right inside your bedroom door, because it's easier for you to put them on while holding on to the door knob." She looked down to the ground at her buckled flats and remember how she put them on without even thinking about it. One hand on the doorknob, other leaning down to pick up one shoe and she would steady herself that way. She pushed the thought away, he was just observant, that's all.

"I know you sanitize your toothbrush once a week because of a talk show you saw one time when you were 13 and…and…I know that you never had bangs until junior year of high school and I think that's just…adorable." He said sweetly, stepping closer and looking at her with those loving eyes and no, no, no. She could not let herself do that. Even though his lips were so inviting and his hands that had held her's so many times were right there and open and willing.

"I know that your favorite color is red," So, she happened to be wearing a red sweater. Big deal. Anybody could have guessed that. "And that right now you probably have a penny in the bottom of one of your shoes that you found on heads." The cold copper under her heel seemed to be much more of a nuisance when he pointed it out. She dropped her hands, but let them intertwine in front of her together, trying to keep herself from reaching out to his.

"I know before you go on stage, you count. You count to ten in your head over and over. Inhale for five," He paused, taking a deep breath as if following her routine. "Exhale for five." And in the same way he released his breath and she noticed the way his chest rose and fell. Silently, she backed up, because each passing moment was one that she felt herself opening back up. That wound in her chest that had sunk in on itself and never been filled was being reopened and she knew that once it was there was no other way to fill it.

"I know that you used to compare yourself to Quinn Fabray, no matter how many times I told you how gorgeous you were." She looked up at him with almost a glare, as if saying why bring up her name when it's not necessary, but before she could stop him, he continued. "And still are." And that was said meeting his eyes, genuine, true, and she felt her heart palpitations stutter and pause, like she was double taking, because there was no way Mike could still think that way about her, not after this time apart.

"I know that you took my shirt that night," her eyes widened and she thought had that maybe he wouldn't notice a missing t-shirt, but apparently he did. And its presence in the top drawer of her dresser seemed that much more prominent. "And probably threw it away," Dear god, no. She could never. Not for the life of her, no matter how many times she saw herself standing in the mirror with it on, instead of taking it off she would just cover with a sweatshirt, or a different shirt. She wouldn't let Patricia touch her laundry, as she might catch on, but she never did. "Part of me hopes you kept it, and maybe you thought about me."

"I know that you are vegan, and that I have found some really awesome tofu because of you." And at that she cracked a small smile, before catching herself, because she should still be mad. Mike saw the smile too and his efforts increased, because of something like that made her smile, he had a lot more where that came from. He stepped to her and should he reach his arms straight out his palms would be on her shoulders and he was more than okay with this distance.

"I know that you have a scar on the back of your knee from when you fell off your bike when you were seven." He said pointing down to her left knee and her eyes followed. "You remember when you showed me that?" She nodded, even though she wasn't sure that the question was supposed to be answered. "You told me that it was one of those flaws that you that would hold you back and you complained about how you wouldn't get jobs because of it. You were having a terrible day, I'll give you that." He pointed out. "But that wasn't the best part. Remember when I kissed it and made it all better?" She nodded once more, and there was so much she wanted to say to him, but couldn't find the words. He laughed softly remembering how they used to mess around with each other. How easy it had been, how fun.

"I know that from senior year you have three journals full of songs you never told Mr. Schue about. And they are all brilliant because you sang them to me that weekend," she closed her eyes, one of the ones coming to her mind that she had wrote about him in particular. Something along the lines of:

_And now my heart is opened and I'm giving you my all_

_Just be sure to catch me when I fall_

_Even more in love with those arms, that smile_

_How you could hold me all night_

_And I've never felt more safe, more warm_

_More protected, more at home_

"And I could hear you humming them when we used to walk down the halls." Little did he know that she only sang one song when they walked hand in hand down the halls, and it was the same one that had come to her mind at this moment.

"I know that your hands are…perfect." And at that time she felt her hands being grasped by his and almost too easily she let him take them, feeling the warmth of his skin and the smoothness of his palms. She opened her eyes just to look up at him, only to see him looking down at her hands, letting his fingers trace over them. "Immaculate." he murmured. "I know that you clean your fingernails every morning, bad stage presence if you don't," He said lightly and almost playfully and she looked away shyly, feeling his hands still holding hers. "And you put on this lotion that smells like," he closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to recall that small detail. "Vanilla." He stated simply and she noted the bottle sitting in her bathroom cabinet. "And it's really perfect for you, because I don't see how anybody could be sweeter." He interlaced their fingers and there was this moment of realization, this ease that came with the action. Fingers didn't fumble, hands didn't hesitate and it fit. Each knuckle rested in just the right spot and though her hands were quite a bit smaller, it worked. She met his eyes now and her once more her breath hitched at the intensity she saw there.

"I know that your eyes…god, your eyes are so warm like…It's hard to describe. And I missed that more than anything." He admitted. "Because your eyes were bright and I could see your fire in them, but right now, they don't look like they used to. They are empty and you're holding back something and I can tell." And even though it wasn't a question, she believed it deserved some kind of response and she nodded, confirming his beliefs. He squeezed her hands in a comforting manner. "It's like you have some kind of gate that's big and rusted because its been there for so long. And it's way too heavy for you to move by yourself and all I really want is the key, Rach. Just let me borrow it for a minute and I swear to god I will give it right back if you want me to." His tone was desperate now and he stepped closer and she could feel his arm brushing against her arm, and the toe of one of his shoes bumping hers and her heart had increased its regular pace, just like it always had when he was around and she looked up at him.

"I know that…I couldn't move on from that night, I remember exactly the pajamas you were wearing when I climbed in your window." Just as she remembered every detail about him. How his skin looked washed out by the moon and the tender touches that kept her calm and said goodbye to her when he couldn't say it himself. "I remember debating whether I should get my ass out of the house and go see you the next morning. And I remember every single detail about how you felt when I held you." And at that moment she so desperately needed him to hold her, so she let go of his hands and instead wrapped her arms around his waist and his went around her shoulders as he leaned down to meet her.

"You were so warm," he murmured against her hair, "And you would just stay there….like now. And other times you would move your head, like you were trying to dig a hole right through my chest. And you did. You really did, Rach. Just not like you expected." From here she gripped his shirt and her hands balled into fists on his back. "And I tried to move on, I swear to you I did. I tried my damned hardest to make this easier for both of us." His voice cracked and he pressed his cheek to her hair and just felt the weight of her again. "I promise you that and if you don't listen to anything else I say, just please believe that I tried."

"But nothing seemed to work because I had a damn engagement ring in my pocket and it wasn't for you and that didn't feel right at all, because you were the only person I could ever see having a future with." And once again she answered without it being a question, she nodded against his chest agreeing with and she felt the low rumble there when he laughed softly. He swelled with hope as that was what he'd been hoping for. Not necessarily a right now. Or a tomorrow. A future.

"And every bone in my body was telling me that I should throw that ring off the top of the Empire State Building." And then it was her turn to laugh against his shirt, tears streaming against the fabric as well as her cheeks. Good tears, though. Happy ones.

"And I know all the stupid things, Rach. I know all the things that you told me nobody else took the time to notice and the things that you were too embarrassed to admit. Like…that your favorite iced coffee is a Caramel Macchiato. No chocolate. Extra whip." He said and she laughed now, a bright bubbly laugh and she let him go.

Her hands moved up to his neck, to the hair at the back of his neck and stayed there. And she was smiling, bright and unhindered and it was like everything made sense again, that hole in both of their hearts had been stitched up, not lazily taped closed or glue temporarily shut, but with a tight seam that could only bust if the seamstress felt like sabotaging it. Her eyes were only hazed by the layer of tears on them, not a darkness, not a barrier.

She pulled him down into a kiss, one that contained smiles and tears and the months apart all mashed together. It was perfect and nothing could have phased their happiness. The kiss may have lasted mere seconds or gone on for hours. Neither could tell you the time and neither wanted to acknowledge the time.

"I missed you too," she finally whispered back to him when her forehead was staying against his. "And I love you. More than anything I've ever loved before," she said and her hand ran through his hair, and both of their eyes dropped closed in contentment.

"Never leave. And never let me leave again, okay?" She asked and he immediately replied with a word that settled her heart and her mind. The one word that kept her content for years on end.

"Never."

Sure, they had their fights and their breakdowns, but it was worth it. Every single second was worth the making up after the fight. They grew more comfortable together, physically, emotionally, mentally, until there was a point where it only made sense to stay together.

Neither wanted anybody else more and many fights ensued over how they weren't good enough for each other, but always resulted in the agreement to disagree.

So if asking, "Well, what happened next?"

The better question is to ask, "Did he ever let her go?"

And no.

He never did.


End file.
